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angelasscribbles · 11 months

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The Proposal

Series: None, this is a one-shot and you can find those here.

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Drake x Riley

Rating: G

Warnings for this chapter: None

Word Count: 1,471

A/N: This is finally! @twinkleallnight ask from my prompt wheel event. The ask was for Drake x fluff and angst x secrets and romance. I decided that any fluffy, romantic gesture from Drake Walker is going to be angsty because he's unsure of himself. What other romantic gesture would you keep secret than a proposal? So here it is finally. Hope you enjoy!

Also submitting to @choicesjunechallenge for Proposal.

My other stuff: Master List.

“What’s going on in here?” Riley asked.

The conversation had ceased the moment she walked in. That was the second time in as many days and Drake had been acting squirely for a week. Fidgety, secretive, and quieter than normal. Not that he was ever a huge talker, but this was quiet even for him. He seemed lost in thought often and when she asked what was on his mind, he just dismissed her with “nothing.”

She sighed and shook her head when Drake once again responded to her question with, “Nothing.” The same answer he’d given her earlier when he’d hung up on a call that he’d clearly been in the middle of when she’d walked in the room.

She was starting to worry that there was someone else or that he’d realized he’d made a huge mistake wanting to be with her.

Not that she would blame him. She had come here for his best friend after all. But the spark with Liam had fizzled and died quickly. There was no way the royal council ever would have approved her as a match for him anyway and she had figured out not long after landing in Cordonia that there was no way she would be happy living under the restraints that Liam lived under.

She thought that Drake had moved past the fact that her initial interest had been in Liam, but maybe he hadn’t. She had never meant to fall for someone else after realizing she and Liam weren’t meant to be, but she had fallen for Drake in slow motion, and had been unable to stop it from happening.

Maybe he had just gotten swept up in the excitement of the engagement tour and the adrenaline rush of all the sneaking around, trying to be discreet as they cleared her name and now that it was all over, regular life with her was boring. Maybe he liked damsels in distress and now that she wasn’t one, he was losing interest.

She turned her attention to the other man in the room and demanded, “Max?” Surely Max would tell her what was going on.

Max gave her a wide-eyed stare, like a deer caught in the headlights before blurting out, “Nothing!” and bounding out of the room.

Well, fuck.

She turned back to Drake with a tremble in her voice, “You’d tell me if something was wrong, right?”

“What? Of course! Riley, baby, nothing is wrong!” Drake was shaken to his core that she thought that. He took her in his arms and pulled her tight against him as he told her, “Nothing is wrong! I love you! Please tell me you know that!”

“Uh-huh,” she nodded as she pulled away and gave him a sad smile, “I’ll leave you alone and let you get back to…whatever you were doing…”

He watched her leave with his heart in his throat.

Shit!

This was not supposed to happen. He was apparently a terrible secret keeper and a worse boyfriend. His girlfriend, the love of his life, thought something was wrong between them because he was making such a mess out of this.

He pulled out his phone and started typing into the group chat he had created a week ago.

Drake: Change of plans! We need to pull this off tonight! She’s suspicious and thinks something is wrong.

Max: Sorry, I have no poker face!

Hana: We can do this! Can’t we, Liam?

Liam: Of course! Anything for our two best friends my love!

Drake: Seven?

Hana: Seven it is. Max, come to my office so we can coordinate.

Max: On my way!

Drake pocked his phone and went to find Riley.

*****

After reassuring his girlfriend that everything was okay between them, Drake met his friends on the palace roof. “Oh my God, you guys, this looks amazing! How did you get it done so fast?”

There was a table draped with a white linen tablecloth, adorned with red and white roses and tapered candles. Twinkle lights stretched overhead and soft classical music floated through the air from hidden speakers.

“Being queen has it’s perks!” Hana giggled.

“She’s being modest,” Liam draped an arm around her shoulders, “My wife is amazing at everything!”

“Besides, you did all the planning,” Max interjected, “all we did was make it happen a few days earlier than originally scheduled!”

“Okay, okay,” Drake muttered as he walked around the area checking things, “Flowers… music… champagne….candles… what am I forgetting?”

“Uh…do you have the ring?” Max asked.

“Shit! The ring! Right!” Drake patted his pockets, then blew out a huge sigh of relief when he found it, “Got it!”

“Okay, now all we have to do is get Riley up here!” Hana nodded.

“I’ve got that part under control,” Drake answered, “Thank you all for everything!”

“Are you okay?” Liam peered at his best friend, “You look a little pale.”

“I’ve never been so nervous in my fucking life! What if she says no? What if she doesn’t want to get married? What if-“

“Hey, hey, hey!” Liam placed a hand on his shoulder, “She will!”

“Yeah, anyone can see how in love you two are,” Max assured him.

“As her best friend, I’m telling you, she’s going to say yes!” Hana added.

“Okay,” Drake took in several gulping breaths, “Let’s do this!”

*****

“We’re having dinner on the roof?” Riley asked as Drake led her through the door at the top of the stairs and out onto the moonlit rooftop of the palace.

“Yeah, I thought it would be fun.”

“Wow!” She breathed as she took in the scene in front of her, “You did all this?”

“I had a little help,” he admitted.

“Why?” She asked as her eyes took in the table that was set with fine China, crystal champagne flutes and actual silverware. “Not that I don’t appreciate a good, romantic gesture, but this is out of character for you…oh! Is this what you’ve been so secretive about lately?” She watched his face hopefully.

“What? I mean…yes, yes! This is what I’ve been planning! I wanted to recreate the night we met!”

Relief crashed through her as she sat in the chair that he pulled out for her. “I’m pretty sure there was no China or champagne that night…”

“Yes, but this was the best I could do in the palace kitchens! There are no plastic plates in the place. But look!” He pulled the cover off her plate to reveal a deluxe cheeseburger and fries.

“Oh my God! This looks amazing!” she laughed, “This is great! I was starting to worry about you for a minute there, Walker!” Burgers and fries were much more his speed, and hers, than any of the fancy dishes that usually came out of the palace kitchens.

“So, you like it?”

“Of course! But why all the secrecy? You scared the crap out of me! I thought you were going to break up with me!”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” he ducked his head sheepishly, “I guess I’m not good at keeping secrets.”

“Ya think?”

His smile vanished as his countenance grew serious, “Riley, I never want you to be afraid of that. I want to be with you now, tomorrow and forever.”

Something in his tone made her body go still. Her eyes widened as she took in his serious demeanor, “What are you trying to say right now, Drake?”

“I’m saying…” he was suddenly down on one knee holding a ring up to her, “I love you, Riley Brooks and I want to spend the rest of my life proving that to you! Will you make me the happiest man on the planet and marry me?”

Her hands flew to her mouth as she sucked in a shocked gasp, “Drake!” tears started falling down her cheeks as she nodded.

“Yes? That’s a yes?”

“It’s a yes!” she nodded harder.

“Oh, thank God!” He slid the ring on her finger as his hands started to shake from the adrenaline that had dumped into his body.

He stood up and pulled her from the chair, crushing her against him as his lips crashed into hers.

When they pulled apart, she was laughing, “I can’t believe you thought I would say anything other than yes!”

“I have never been so scared in my life, Riley!”

She looked at him incredulously, “Did you really think I’d say no?”

“Maybe….”

“Not a chance! You’re stuck with me, now!” She teased as she admired the ring on her finger.

“Good!” He kissed her again then leaned his forehead against hers, “I love you, Riley.”

“I love you too, Drake,” she murmured as her hands ran through his hair.

The food was forgotten for the moment as they clung to each other with love and happiness flooding through their hearts.

#drake x mc #drake walker #angelasscribbles #the royal romance #the royal romance fanfic #trr #choices fic writers creations #choices #choices stories you play #cfwc fics of the week #drake walker x mc #drake x riley #one shot #fluff #proposal #choicesjunechallenge #choices monthly challenge

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lilacsandwhiskey · 2 years

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HI I NEED ANSWERS!!

do you prefer first or third person when reading?

do you prefer a made up main character, or the idea of the reader being the main character (using ‘you’ instead of ‘she’ or ‘i’)

what’s your favorite tropes?

do you like alternative povs?

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scudslut · 2 months

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em's masterlist/guidelines

fluff - 𐙚 || smut - ♱ || angst - ✾

➳ Daryl Dixon

one-shots: sins and honey flavored sweetness 𐙚 ♱ ✾ heartsease 𐙚 ♱ a summer wasting 𐙚 midnight refreshments 𐙚 a new years surprise 𐙚 ♱ lazy mornings 𐙚 stay with me 𐙚 ✾ too sweet ♱

drabbles: taste me ♱ head w/ daryl 𐙚♱ daryl’s uncut ♱ s4 daryl 𐙚 ♱ ✾

➳ Scud Frohmeyer

one-shots: take me however you want too ♱

drabbles: cockwarming w/ scud ♱ scuds a slut (canonically) ♱

➳ My Edits

normy's bday dhl burn, burn, burn

please send requests!

About Me!

em | 20 | gemini

hi everyone! this is so long awaited (i’m legit so lazy) but finally i have a masterlist/about me!

╰─▸ my names emma, i’m obviously in love w daryl dixon/norman reedus. i love to write and make edits — u guys should totally follow my tiktok account @mrsemmadixon or otherwise known as scudslut;)

i met norman jdkskajajs at the nyc comic con 2023, he signed the back of my phone case, i’ll actually die on a fucking hill. yes, he’s just as godly in person.

in my day to day life i work with animals 10 hours a day, they are my main passion aside from writing and whatnot, so if i post a photo of a really cute dog i met, that’s why lmao.

i have 2 cats right now, my baby lily i got last year and sophie who i’ve had since i was a kid. typically we rescue all our animals!

i deal with extreme anxiety and depression from a major accident that happened in my life a few years ago (so if i don’t respond or have trouble posting sometimes… that’s why and i really hope everyone understands.)

I love, love, love music. I play the piano and guitar, probably not very good but who cares. some of my all time favorite artists are.. and here we go on a rampage... deftones, cigsaftersex, wheezer, nirvana, mac, frank, lana, djo, catpower, the vines, dinosaur jr, 21 sav, labi siffre, the kills, tom odell, basement, strokes, velvet underground, kendrick, norah jones, red hot chilies, the smiths, billy idol, the cure, no vacation, mazzy star, fleetwood, empire of the sun, pinegrove, otis redding, neil young, etta james, summer walker, motley crue, guns'n'roses, foo fighters, biggie, shady, drake, nelly, jay-z, $uici$ide boys, gucci, trippie... and so much more, my music taste is actually bipolar.

on that note, i actually have a playlist for daryl + norman (music he reposts/i think he’d like) lmk if u want me so share them.

i’m canadian, born and raised.

my parents are both extreme alcoholics, so i suffer from a multitude of childhood traumas as well as current ones. we love it here!:) but id like to think i relate to daryl in some sense, if its the only comfort i get from it.

i love pasta and wine so fucking much, if u don’t we are gonna have issues…

i spend my time either at my job, reading, writing, editing or spending time with some close friends.

and that’s pretty much me!:)

please feel free to ask me questions or request fics, i will absolutely love to do them! (as long as they follow guidelines) if your unsure, just message me to clarify! i won’t ever leave u on read, i promise!

My Guidelines:

absolutely no rape/SA/even slight connotations of it.

no incest.

hitting, slapping, or any extreme violence during play, is a no. (daryl loves to smack your ass when he hits it from the back… that’s okay… but he would. not. hit you.)

age play - i will dabble in this but nothing major where reader is barely an adult. the most i’ll do is early/mid 20’s and daryl is his canon age.

oh yes, and i will write for all norman reedus characters! if you want someone else, messsage/ask me!

gifs/dividers from @cafekitsune

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flamingpudding · 8 months

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Modern (Fenton) Ghost Hunting Part 1

Ties to: Post from under 'It started with a Ouija Board' found in the Masterpost

A/N: I got a little stuck with this and there is another bigger fanfic project I started working on that has me distracted. But I wanted to post at least part of this before I might end up in radio silence for three weeks cause I am visiting family out of country and have no idea about internet access there yet 😅

Danny was in a good mood as he slurped the ecto-shake his mom had made upon his return from the Zone. It was one of the more harmless and ghost helping food inventions his parents had come up with, once the truth was out of the bag when he was more or less forced to take on his kingly duties. Though his mom's ecto-fudge special (that was also one of the few ectoplasm infused foods not coming back to life) made for only him and Ellie was even better than the shakes. It wasn't better than their special family recipes their Dad loved so much but it came a close second.

He sipped on it more as he fell back into the couch as he flicked through some TV channels. His last trip to Gotham had been a month ago and he mused that he probably would need to visit soon to update Lady Gotham on the status of the Garbage Disposal Leaks. It was a pain to deal with but hey at least he, for once, got to be the mean guy to yell at the observants how they could have left these alone for over a hundred of years.

Seriously? If he could, he would stick Sam and one of her righteous rants onto them too.

So yea Danny was in a good mood he had gotten rid of another leak which only left a couple more to take care of and then put the observants into their place with another petty with hidden insults filled and Sam inspired as well as co-authored lecture.

He would give Lady Gotham a present for giving him such a great opportunity with this problem, even if that wasn't her intention. There was also a rumor in the GZ that Box Ghost and Walker had gotten beat up by Lady Gotham several times while he was busy, he would like to hear what that was about.

In all this Danny completely forgot about his encounter with the vigilantes and that his parents told him about a new business partner that was interested in their Fenton Ghost Tech that wasn't weaponry but focused on co-existence, like the Fenton (blob-)ghost feeder.

So when the doorbell rang and Danny went to open the door, thinking it might be one of his friends. He nearly choked on his ecto-shake as he came face to face with a person he only knew from paparazzi shots or Tucker's endless rants about their technology.

"Hello, I am Tim Drake-Wayne! I believe I have an appointment with the Drs Fentons? I am not too early am I?"

-------

Red Robin was on his wits end. After the first success he had used various more 'modern' summonings in hopes of getting their ghost to show up again. But most of them ended with the same white ghost or only one other ghost claiming their name as Box Ghost to appear. Strangely when they did appear, after about a minute after their appearance an invisible force started to attack them to which these ghosts instantly turned tail and 'unsummoned' themselves. They didn't even give Red Robin the chance to ask anything.

In the end after the third time of summoning that white ghost called Walker, the ghost peeked out from that portal once and the moment they spotted him sunk back into it. Not even bothering to tell him about any rules RR might have broken. Since then none of his summons appeared to work anymore.

Though the vigilante at least concluded that whatever had attacked their teenage ghost most likely was also the driving force behind Walker or any other ghost refusing to answer his summonings. He had suspicions that might have something to do with Lady Gotham, the teenage ghost mentioned and had been unable to summon at all.

Of course Red Robin couldn't leave it like that so he dug deeper into the whole ghost cult thing and came across published research papers. Apparently the ghost cult wasn't just an occult but also a science, that he highly doubted was real. The deeper he dug the more concerned he became, for one that ectoplasm they mentioned looked awfully a lot like Lazarus Water, and second the research from the Drs Fenton he found was awfully a lot biased until a year or so ago when they suddenly invalidated all their previous research and published a nearly completely different thesis.

Though the teenage vigilante had to admit everything they offered on their website looked a whole lot more modern and right out of a SyFy movie than any of the tools he had already purchased, from a ghost Wikipedia (which surprisingly included information about Walker and that Box Ghost), to protective gear, to feeders and ectoplasm infusers.

So after a small recon with his siblings and listening to their disagreement and another rant from their youngest about Pit Demons, Red Robin made the decision to check these Drs Fenton out undercover. And who better to do that than Tim Drake-Wayne, CoCEO of Wayne Enterprise who got interested in their ectoplasm-powered gadgets designed for co-existing. After all Gotham might just be as hunted if not more with the crime rate they had.

His siblings were not happy, he knew that but he took the earliest chance he had, to take a private plane to Amity Park and made an appointment with the Fentons on a saturday afternoon.

He made sure to smile pleasantly as the son of the Drs Fentons opened the door and took his time staring. Before finally inviting him in after a shout from the Drs. resounded somewhere behind him in the house. Tim of course eyed the glowing green shake the other teenager was drinking, already forming plans on getting a sample of it the first chance he got.

"Mr. Drake! Such a pleasure to have you here! You have already met my little boy Danny, my husband will join us later he got hold up by my daughters. But we do have a couple of inventions prepared for showcasing, we could also go over some of the theories first if you prefer until my husband can join us.." A woman came up shaking his hand and the teenager, Danny, stepped away from them retreating further away but staying in earshot, Tim noted.

"Dr. Fenton, thank you for having me. I am looking forward to learning about this ecto-energy and your Fenton-inventions, I believe one was called an Ecto-Infuser?" Did he imagine it or did that boy cringe? Also the boy was clearly watching him, he tried to appear nonchalant but the way the other teen's eyes followed Tims every move as well as the guarded look in his eyes was making it obvious.

"The Ecto-Dejecto, originally designed to weaken ghosts but is now one of the many medical tools that can help a ghost survive if they do not have a steady supply of ectoplasm." Dr. Fenton easily explained while leading him over to the seating area.

"Danny be a dear and bring our guest something to drink. Coffee or Tea?"

"Coffee would be fine." Not like he would actually drink it. As much as he and his siblings made fun of Bruce's paranoia, he was not about to drink coffee offered by people who research ghosts. Besides, looking around, he wasn't sure how well they followed OSHA and he wasn't about to potentially drink a coffee infused with Lazarus Water. If that ectoplasm was Lazarus water. But he would take it with him as one of many samples.

"Sure things mom. Should I bring out the fudge too?"

Tim's ear twitched and he turned ever so slightly in the direction of the son. No it couldn't be, could it?

"Oh please be so kind."

"Will be right back."

Now Tim wished he had forced at least one of his siblings along. Because if his ears didn't betray him then this teenager had the same voice like the ghost kid. Though his memory could be slightly impaired because of the time frame since he had last heard it. He would need to get a voice recording now too and play it to his siblings.

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karahalloway · 3 months

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The Highwayman: Part III - The Highwayman Comes Riding

Fandom: TRR (Historical AU)

Pairing: Drake Walker x F!OC (Harper Gale)

Series Summary: On a dark, moonlit night, a highwayman's luck runs out...

Masterlist: The Highwayman

Chapter Summary: Drake arrives, but it's too late...

Word Count: 4,100

Rating/Warnings: M (swearing, physical violence, murder, grief, suicidal thoughts, main character death) Do not read if you are triggered by any of these things!

Chapter theme song:

A/N1: As with Part II of this series, this installment is also quite grim and dark. So read at your own peril. There is no happy ending. As before, I have made some changes to the original, but hopefully, these are for the better.

A/N2: This is my third and final submission for @choicesprompts January 2024 Song Rewrite Challenge. The song I chose to rewrite is The Highwayman by Loreena McKennit.

Part III - The Highwayman Comes Riding

The crack of a musket explodes out into the night.

I duck instinctively, pistols primed and itching to return fire...

...until I realise that the shot had come from the casement.

My throat constricts. "Harper..."

But she has vanished behind the plume of powder smoke that now obscures her window.

"Shit..."

I'd known something was wrong the moment I laid eyes on her. She'd been too tense, too still, sitting on that ledge, more akin to a doll than a flesh-and-blood woman...

...but I'd spotted the silvery gleam of the barrel too late, and now all hell has broken loose.

Fucking Beaumont.

I should never have let my guard down.

Heedless of the preservation of my own skin, I leap forward, fingers on triggers, desperate to reach her.

Another flash of orange...

...and my hat sails from atop my head as a bullet goes just wide of its mark.

I raise a weapon, volleys of lead peppering the thatch to my left and right...

...but I am quickly forced to confront the obvious.

I cannot risk it.

The darkness, in combination with the smoke screen being kicked up by the 'Coats flintlocks obscures my sight into the room, and Harper's location within.

And though I desire nothing more than to dispatch each and every one of Beaumont's whoresons to the depths of hell, the truth is that I'd be firing blind. And I wouldn't be able to live with myself if my bullet found Harper instead of a dragoon.

So, I have but one choice.

Flank the bastards.

Spinning 'round, I dash back down the length of the roof, bullets nipping at my coattails. Diving to the side, I return a pair of retaliatory shots in the general direction of the inn — careful to avoid the actual window — so the 'Coats are under no illusion as to the direction of my retreat.

Sliding down the thatch, I push off from the roof to land bodily atop the muck heap.

Not the most graceful of my escapes, I have to admit, but beggars can't be choosers. And I am pressed for time that I do not have.

Rolling off the pile of shit, I quickly sheath my spent pistols and lope towards the barn with sabre drawn instead.

Emile, the stable hand, had paid back my previous generosity by making me wise to the unsavoury nature of the guests that had descended on the inn. So, instead of hitching Drogon and the new palfrey up in a stall, I've taken the added precaution of hiding the horses out in the gorse.

But where I erred was thinking that the Greencoat patrol had sought the inn out for benign purposes. Because it sure as hell hadn't been me who'd plotted the course for them. In fact, I've always taken care to ensure that my tracks never led directly back to Harper.

Which begs the question... How the fuck did I end up walking into an ambush? With Gale strung up as bait?

My grip tenses on the hilt of my sword.

Someone had let the cat out of the bag. They must've. There's no other explanation.

Who? I have no clue. As there are a grand total of two souls who are privy to the secret that I frequent The Crown, and neither would betray me.

Not willingly, at least...

But, first things first.

Skirting along the shadow of the structure's perimeter, I arrive at the stable doors.

It appears quiet. But after being greeted by gunfire once already this eve, I am loath to take further chances.

Pinching up a handful of peddles, I toss them through the doorway. Only when no shots fire in reply, do I dare slip inside.

"Sir?" comes the hesitant query from within the shadows. "That ye? I heard musket fire an'—"

My sabre slices through the night. "Thought I'd be dead?"

The boy's countenance morphs into a mask of horror as the blade comes to rest 'neath his jaw. "Nay, sir! I'd never! I—"

"Care to swear on that?" I interject with a dangerous edge.

"On a tower of Bibles stacked on my parents' graves, sir!" Emile vouches with a tremble to his voice.

I assess the lad under the pale light of the moon. His face is ashen but his eyes glint with steadfast surety.

I lower my blade. "The 'Coats have Harper..."

The hand emits a gasp of disbelief. "Sacré dieu...!"

"...and I could use your assistance," I add, moving to the closest stall that houses a mount bearing Greencoat livery.

"Anything, sir," he proclaims earnestly. "Yerself an' Mistress Harper ha' always been good t' me!"

"Fetch a bag of oats," I direct as I grab the reins of the bay gelding. "And a length of rope if you have it."

"Right away, sir!"

While Emile sets about his task, I lead the Greencoat mount out onto the gangway. Reaching for the girth, I tighten it back up before slipping the bridle off and tossing it into the straw.

"The things ye requested, sir," huffs Emile, reappearing once more.

"Good," I approve, taking the sack of feed from him. "Now, help me lash this to the saddle."

Working in tandem, we quickly secure the decoy atop the horse. Shrugging out of my justacorps — on top of the retribution for Harper, that cunt of a Beaumont also owes me a new hat and coat — I sling the muck- and bullet hole-ridden covering over the sack to complete the trick.

"Think'll fall for it, sir?" asks Emile as he meets my eye from across the horse's neck.

"Better pray to God they do," I reply, slapping the mount on the rear to send it galloping out into the night. "Else this might very well be our last meeting."

Emile's throat bobs in consternation. "Best o' luck to ye, then, sir."

"Christ knows I'll need it," I accede, grasping his palm to press a gold ducat into it. "Now, make yourself scarce afore the dragoons show up."

With a quick nod, the lad disappears back into the gloom of the barn.

Withdrawing from the stables once more, I skirt 'round the far side of the building, careful to keep to the shadows. Hopping the low fence of the vegetable patch, I make my way towards the low door that leads into the kitchen.

Trying the handle, I find it unlocked. Pulling the heavy wooden door back, I slip warily inside.

The crash of boots above me confirms that the Greencoats have fallen for my ruse. But there is no guarantee that every last one of their dastardly lot plans to depart the inn.

Belvedere Beaumont may be a godless dog, but he is by no means a fool.

Which means I'll need to keep ahold of my wits... and weapons.

Pausing at the bottom of the short set of stone steps that lead up to the main hall, I spare a moment to quickly reload my flintlocks.

Slotting one gun back into my belt, I grasp the hilt of my sabre in one hand, and the second pistol in the other before ascending the stairs.

The hall is dark... and quiet.

Whatever patrons there may have been must've made themselves scarce upon the discharge of the first shot.

Honestly? I cannot blame them. I certainly would not wish to be caught on the wrong side of the dragoon's crossfire.

I clench my eyes shut. Please, let her be safe...

Moving through the hall like a ghost, I arrive at the main staircase.

Cocking my pistol, I proceed onto the first step with as much care as I can muster, even as every fibre of my body is raring to dash upwards as quickly as humanly possible.

Sticking to the wall, I inch my way slowly towards the second floor, flintlock before me, on guard for the faintest sound or movement.

Reaching the landing without incident, I am greeted by the wanton destruction left in the wake of the dragoon besiegement.

My jaw piques in ire.

This had been punition — pure and simple. The setting of a heavy-handed example to put the fear of God into the hearts of all those who may cross paths with Beaumont and his men.

A warning of what will befall those who dare defy the letter of the law.

I shake my head. I should never have involved—

A shadow moves in one of the rooms to my left.

Flattening myself against the wall, I sneak a peek through the doorway...

...and what I see roils my guts.

Robert Gale — the inn-keep — is hunched over the chest standing in front of the large, four-poster bed, his hands bound behind him, his shirt and hair matted with sweat. A dark puddle of blood pools at his feet.

Two 'Coats root through the things in the room, pocketing anything that catches their eye and fancy, sniggering amongst themselves.

A hiss of chagrin escapes me. "Putain de merde..."

There is punishment, and then there is persecution. And Harper's father is — without a shadow of a doubt — a victim of the latter. The extent of his wounds provides ample proof of Beaumont's abuse of his authority.

And I cannot allow myself to stand idly by in the face of this atrocity.

I step out of the gloom and into the doorway.

A floorboard creaks beneath my boot.

One of the dragoons glances up...

...but by the time his faculties have clocked the fact that I am foe, not friend, I have already splattered his brains onto the wall behind him.

His compatriot meets the same fate half a breath later, as he fumbles ineffectually for his musket, his body thudding to the floor as the second of my bullets also finds sharp and swift retribution.

Robert Gale's voice croaks out from the foot of the bed. "Ye should'a left them alone, lad..."

But even that simple act is too much for his broken body, and he starts to hack violently.

Taking three quick strides 'cross the room, I manage to grab the old man 'fore he keels over. "Easy now..."

He heaves a shuddering breath 'gainst my breast. "Now, we'll be strung up fer sure..."

"Nay," I counter softly, reaching behind him to loosen the bonds that secure his wrists. "You just lay the blame at my feet. Where it belongs."

Robert twists his neck up to regard me with bruised eyes and cracked lips. "Yer him... The Raven Rider..."

"Amongst other things..." I admit, lowering him as gently as I can to the floor.

The inn-keep hacks out a strained laugh. "Aye... I can see why she likes you..."

"Have you seen her?" I demand, shrugging out of my waistcoat to press it to the wound at his side.

"Nay," Robert replies hoarsely. "Not since they found the gold in her room..."

The icy hand of dread grips my heart. "Sweet Jesus...How the bloody hell did they even know where to look?"

"Théo..." comes the raspy confession. "He... He heard—"

I nearly choke on my own breath. "The window..."

We never closed the damn window...

Springing to my feet, I dash from the room, heedless of the sound of wood striking wood as my booted feet pound the length of the hallway.

How could I have let myself be such a careless fool!

Not only have I tarred the woman I love by virtue of our association, but I've unwittingly led the bastards right to her! And if they found out about the gold, then...

I cannot allow myself to even think on that.

Skidding to a stop in front of the last doorway, I throw myself inside...

...and skid to an abrupt halt as I lay eyes on the horror spread out before of me.

"No..."

The dogged denial slips from my tongue in a whisper.

But my lack of acceptance does nothing to assuage the merciless truth of the reality that assaults me like a thousand knives to my chest.

Harper lies prone in the moonlight, bound and gagged, her golden tresses soaked in the slick crimson of her blood.

"No... No..."

My feet carry me unthinkingly to her listless form beneath the casement — the window of which sits still ajar — and I crash to my knees at her side.

Grasping her by the shoulders, I pull her to me with trembling hands, praying under my breath, hoping against hope that it's a mere trick of the night, a cruel misjudgement, a sordid nightmare that I have somehow stumbled into, soon to awake from...

...but even though her skin still feels warm to the touch, no breath issues from her chest and those hazel eyes that once sparkled with magic and love now stare dully out into the night.

My nails dig into her flesh as my body bows over hers. "Oh, God... Please... No..."

But if the Almighty Lord hears my plea, He is either a heartless bastard or an impotent fraud because He ignores my beseeachment. And she remains unmoving 'gainst my heart.

"NO!!!"

The delegation roars forth from my chest with a force that is naked in its brutality. The heathen keen echoes out into the night as the bitter taste of anguish engulfs my throat and my soul shatters 'neath the stars.

I am too late. And she is dead.

Shot in the heart and left to bleed out on the cold floor like a dog. Alone. Without any assurances or prayer.

All because I'd allowed my heart to sway my head. Convincing myself that despite all my prior misdeeds, I could nevertheless steal a future for myself. A future I had no right or claim to. A future that was more akin to the spectre of a mirage than any flesh-and-blood destiny. A future that was doomed from the start.

Yet my covetousness knew no bounds. And blinded as I had been by the promise of the lie I'd weaved not just myself but Harper as well, I'd led us into the mire of disaster.

"It should've been me..." I rasp into her neck as anguish blurs my vision. "It fucking should've been me..."

I hear the floorboards strain behind me. But I care not. I have no words or sentiment left. And if it's one of Beaumont's enterprising men come to shoot me in the back? Well, then at least they'll be doing me the favour of putting me out of my luckless misery.

Because the knowledge that I have doomed the woman I love cuts deeper than any mortal knife could.

And I've lost the right to live anyway.

"Imma sorry, lad..." says Robert Gale, laying a calloused hand on my shoulder, his own voice cracking.

I shrug the gesture off. I don't deserve his pity. Let alone his succour. I am the one holding the body of his dead daughter in my arms. If anything, he should be setting on me to tear limb from limb in payment for my sins.

Yet, he does no such thing.

"Had I know afore tonight 'bout ye..." He heaves a hoarse breath from above me. "But I s'pose we all had our secrets... And I know it inna any consolation as of now, but we'll bury her 'neath the oak tree. Next t' her mother. That way ye can—"

"Them," I bite out through clenched teeth.

The old man shifts. "What do ye—?"

"She was with child," I grit, reaching up to pull the bloodied gag from her face.

Robert falls into deathly silence beside me.

"So, raise your hand," I tell him bluntly as I pull her eyes gently closed. "Beat me. Wring my neck. Kill me, for all I care. For this is the only opportunity I'll afford you to exact your just vengeance upon me."

"Ye must think very little o' me, if ye think I'd strike a grieving man," rebuts the inn-keep with a hint of steel. "Let alone one who loved my daughter so."

"Then you are a better man than me," I reply solemnly, leaning in one last time to lay a kiss on her lifeless lips.

"Imma'n older man," he corrects as I gently return Harper's head to the floor. "Who's stood where yer standin'. So, I can afford some clemency. 'Specially in this bitter hour."

"You might come to regret your choice," I reply, forcing myself back to my feet. "As I bring nothing but death. And our paths will not cross again after tonight."

"Where ye goin'?" comes the flummoxed query as I push past him.

I throw my reply carelessly over my shoulder. "To exact vengeance of my own."

"They'll kill ye, lad!" Robert calls after me as I stride from the room. "They'll hang ye fer murder! And her death will've been fer n—!"

"I'm a dead man anyway."

Without caring to look back, I let my boots carry me back 'cross the corridor to retrieve my weapons from where I'd left them in the master bedroom.

Reloading the pistols on the fly, I stash them in my belt and I beat a determined path back to the lower level of the inn and out into the night.

The crash of the door 'gainst the wall catches unawares the pair of dragoons that had been left to stand watch on the exterior. But by the time they turn towards me, I have already run both of them through.

Leaving the sods to bleed out in the mud, I plunge into the darkness rising before me.

The cold, winter air whips through my hair, stinging my eyes and my lips in sharp contrast to the hot blood slithering between my knuckles.

But I pay it no need. For I have but one goal. One mission.

To take every soul I can into the night.

Because death? It is all but assured for me. As whether I go by my own bullet or a Greencoat's, it is simply a matter of choice at this point. For I have no reason left to live.

My world turned to ash the moment she died. And there is nothing left to salvage.

Coming to a halt some ways off from the inn, I shoot a sharp whistle into the depths of the murk. A shadowy form raises its head from the gorse, and in the next instant, Drogon is trotting eagerly towards me, the new palfrey in tow.

"Change of plans, mon gross," I advise as he comes to a stop in front of me, breath steaming in the moonlight. "And I don't think you're going to like it..."

The Merèns regards me for a moment, as if sensing the shift in my soul, before letting out a world-weary sigh.

"You always were far too opinionated," I tell him dryly, reaching up to untether the palfrey from his saddle.

Turning the bay towards the stables, I give it a slap on the rump to send it on its way. With Harper gone, I have no further use for the horse. And Emile will ensure it is well cared for.

The stallion shakes his head at me as I swing myself onto his back. But I allow him no further opportunity for protest as I gather the reins in one hand, and point him north.

"Hue!"

Upon command, Drogon leaps forward, and the night becomes a blur as we fly across the moor, like an ill wish upon the wind, seeking our quarry 'neath the path of the stars.

I have no clue for how long we ride. The silvery eye of the hunter's moon casts an eerie pall over the land, distorting any earthly sense of time or distance as its lunar magic stretches shadows and swallows minutes.

Eventually, though, from out of the darkness and the mist appears a ghostly glow, bobbing on the brow of the hill.

"Beaumont," I growl, watching the company ride closer.

They must have caught the horse and realised the nature of the ruse they had fallen prey to.

But it matters not. The time for tricks and cons has passed. There is no more running... No more hiding. No more trying to cheat or contrive our fates. The last of the road has run out.

It is judgment hour.

Wrenching the flintlocks from my belt, I press Drogon forward, down into the valley, down into the well of our doom.

Yet a strange sense of calm blankets me as we draw level with the oncoming troop. Perhaps because my heart already stopped beating the moment I laid eyes on her. And this last, earthly act is merely a formality. Or, I'm so drunk on the potent potion of grief and bloodlust that swirls through my veins that I've become numb to all else.

Either way, I am a shadow of the man I once was. And welcome the sweet promise of release.

The reins slip from my fingers as I raise the pistols to sight my shot.

The figures of men and horses coalesce from out of the gloom, torches borne aloft.

I reach the edge of the sphere of light...

... and let the first shot fly.

The lead dragoon's eyes widen in surprise as the crack of flint 'gainst frizzen ignites the black powder in the pan, splintering the calm of the night.

The lead round explodes out of the barrel in a flash of smoke and fire, hurtling through the air to imbed itself in the soft flesh of the man's cheek, shattering teeth and bone as it goes.

The shock of the impact causes the 'Coat to jerk back on the length of his reins, pulling his horse into the path of its neighbour.

Taking advantage of the confusion, I fire another round into the heaving mess of bodies, catching a horse in the shoulder, causing it to throw its rider from its back.

Cries of horror and surprise rise up as the precisely stacked formation careens into itself, turning both man and beast into a maelstrom of panic.

Slinging the spent weapons into the night, I whirl Drogon back 'round, his hooves rearing into the air as he seeks to redirect the sharpness of his momentum.

Whipping my sabre from its sheath, a hellish howl erupts from my throat as I point the tip of the blade across the narrow divide in vengeful promise.

"BEAUMONT!"

A glint of gold flashes in the middle of the fray as my target snaps his head up at the sound of his name.

"Shoot him, you whelps!" screams the captain, grabbing for his own pistol. "Blast him dead!"

But I am already charging forward.

Shots crack out into the night as I bear down upon my mark...

...and there is but one prayer on my lips.

"I am coming, mon coeur..."

I am almost upon the wall of dragoons when I feel Drogon stumble. Another round pierces my gut a breath later. A third lodges in my shoulder.

But still, I urge the stallion on...

...until his knees give way in the face of the desperate volley of bullets and he careens into the mud, taking me with him, mere steps from my goal.

A thousand pounds of horseflesh crashes down on me, pinning my leg 'neath the weight. My sabre clatters from my hand to vanish into the tangles of the gorse beside me.

The back of my head collides with the ground, and I find myself staring up into the black expense above me, my body broken, my senses reeling.

Drogon lifts his head briefly, attempting to pull himself to his feet, before succumbing to the inherent futility of the exercise with a mournful sigh.

"It's alright, mon gross," I whisper, attempting to comfort the wounded beast lying atop me, even as my vision skips and my lungs struggle for breath as a familiar wetness drenches my shirt.

This is not the way I planned to go. But it seems I left what remained of my luck in that cramped room where my love had blossomed and then died.

Fitting, really...

A pistol clicks above me.

With the last of my strength, I reach beneath my shirt, where Harper's talisman lies coiled 'gainst my heart.

Twisting the damp silk 'round my finger, I close my eyes with a final exhale.

…look for me by the moonlight.

They say that in the depths of the dark — when the moon is high and full — that the sound of hooves may be heard, galloping 'cross the moor...

And though you may not glimpse it, a ghostly rider's there. Searching for his love, they say, who gave her life for his...

If he finds her, 'tis not known; but he made a solemn vow to her. And a promise bound in blood and silk, is a promise that must be filled...

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@twinkleallnight @lovingchoices14 @kingliam2019 @petiteboheme @angelasscribbles @aussiegurl1234 @nestledonthaveone @queen-arabella-of-cordonia @tessa-liam @alyshak92 @secretaryunpaid @princessleac1 @walkerdrakewalker @tinkie1973 @twinkle-320 @knaussal @nikkis1983 @lunaseasblog @ficloverevie @indiana-jr @differenttyphoonwerewolf @kristinamae093 @eversoaringqueen12 @peonierose @3pawandme @alexabeta @veebug8 @fanfiction-she-wrote @queenmiarys @lancelotsimp @coco-lina-s @lolablackwrites @ivyflowers13 @persephone13 @hollygirl1269 @adri-ja-96 @harleybeaumont @katedrakeohd @uneravine @alj4890

#harper gale #drake walker #the royal romance #the highwayman #trr au #song rewrite #choicesprompts #historical au

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yandereunsolved · 2 months

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︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ Lost In Cyberspace ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

✎... 𝖶𝖾𝗅𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖺 𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗀 𝗅𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝗂𝗇 cyber 𝗌𝗉𝖺𝖼𝖾. 𝖳𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝖺 𝗒𝖺𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗀— 𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍𝗅𝗒.

✎... 𝖸𝖺𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝖾: 𝖺 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗌𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝖿𝗂𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗅 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝖻𝗌𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝖽𝖾𝗏𝗈𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗈𝗇𝖾.

✎... 𝖶𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗐/𝖼𝗐 '𝗒𝖺𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗌' 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗇 𝗈𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗀? 𝖨𝗍 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝖺 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗌𝗂𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌, 𝗈𝖻𝗌𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌, 𝗏𝗂𝗈𝗅𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾, 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖽𝗎𝖻𝖼𝗈𝗇, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗈𝗑𝗂𝖼 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉𝗌.

✎... 𝖳𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀(𝗌) 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀(𝗌) 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖨 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗈𝗎𝗌. 𝖯𝖾𝗈𝗉𝗅𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝖽𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗂𝗇𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗆𝖺𝗒 𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋. 𝖨𝖿 𝖨 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗆𝗂𝗌𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗏𝗂𝗈𝗎𝗌 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝖻𝖾 𝗉𝗎𝗍, 𝗆𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝗆𝖾.

✎... 𝖤𝗑𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗍 𝖽𝖺𝗋𝗄 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝖺𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗉𝗍𝗌. 𝖨 𝖽𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖽𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗒𝖺𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝖾/𝗍𝗈𝗑𝗂𝖼 𝖻𝖾𝗁𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗈𝗋 𝗂𝗇 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾. 𝖨𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇'𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗌𝗉𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝗈𝗋 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝖾𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗍𝗈 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖨 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍.

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𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 𝖬𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝖻𝗈𝖺𝗋𝖽𝗌 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 Violet Harmon

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 Tate Langdon

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 Kit Walker

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 Austin Sommers

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 Misty Day

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 Cordelia Goode

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 Kai Anderson

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 Hotel (S5)

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 James Patrick March

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 Dandy Mott

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 Jimmy Darling

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 Kyle Spencer

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 Link

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 Zelda

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 Fierce Deity

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 Peter Maximoff

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 Erik Lehnsherr

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 Charles Xavier

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 Raven Darkholme

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 Scott Summers

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 Kurt Wagner

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 John Constantine

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✎ 𝖳𝖾𝗑𝗍 𝖯𝗈𝗌𝗍𝗌 ✎

✎ Yandere Link(s) | Part 1

✎ Yandere Link(s) | Part 2

✎ Yandere Link(s) | Part 3

✎ BOTW Champion(s)/Sage | Part 1

✎ BOTW/TOTK Champion(s)/Sage(s) text posts | Part 2

✎ Legend of Zelda Villain(s) text posts | Part 1

ᰔᩚ 𝖠𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗍𝗂𝖼 𝖻𝗈𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗐/ 𝖽𝗋𝖺𝖻𝖻𝗅𝖾 ᰔᩚ

ᰔ Yandere James Patrick March

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ᰔ Yandere Hyrule

ᰔ Yandere Wind

ᰔ Yandere Kyle Spencer

ᰔ Yandere Fierce Deity

ᰔ Poly Yandere Wild & Sage

ᰔ Yandere Twilight

ᰔ Yandere Sky

ᰔ Yandere Legend

ᰔ Yandere Warriors

ᰔ Yandere Sidon

ᰔ Yandere Peter Maximoff

ᰔ Yandere Charles Xavier

ᰔ Yandere Erik Lehnsherr

ᰔ Yandere Poly Cherik

ᰔ Yandere Four

ᰔ Yandere Ravio

ᰔ Yandere Dark Link

ᰔ Yandere Vaati

ᰔ Yandere Ghirahim

ᰔ Yandere Bruce Wayne

ᰔ Yandere Richard 'Dick' Grayson

ᰔ Yandere Jonathan Crane

ᰔ Yandere Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto

☾ Yandere Thorfinn

☾ Yandere Canute

✧ 𝖧𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗇𝗌 ✧

✧ Yandere James Patrick March

✧ Yandere Tate Langdon

✧ Roses are Red; Violets are Blue - ,, yandere pre death Tate

✧ When You Fell From Heaven - ,, yandere JPM with an angel reader

✧ Dissect Me, Doctor - ,, yandere JPM with a psychologist reader

✧ Breath of a Yandere - ,, Yandere Wild

✧ Yandere Poly Chain with a demi-god(dess) reader - ,, unpolished

✧ Yandere Poly Chain with a Yiga Clan reader - ,, unpolished

✧ Yandere Poly Malon & Time with reader - ,, unpolished

✧ LM — Imagine reader guiding the Links in the maze

✧ Following The Tides - ,, aged up ↑ yandere Wind

✧ Fool Me Once - ,, you being James successor

✧ Clip A Hummingbird's Wings - ,, James's s/o trying to escape

✧ F.I.T — Fucking In The Afterlife - ,, yandere ghost Kai Anderson

✧ Macabre Monster - ,, yandere pre & post death Kyle Spencer

✧ Sweet Tea & Stalking - ,, yandere Jimmy Darling with a famous reader

✧ The Honey In My Honeycomb - ,, yandere Kit Walker pre and post Asylum

✧ You're My Cult Leader - ,, yandere Kai Anderson

⟿ 𝖮𝗇𝖾-𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗍(𝗌) ⟿

⟿ One false promise leads to another

⥉ yan Kai Anderson × fem aligned reader

⟿ God's Design

⥉ yan fem reader nun × Kit Walker

⟿ In Death & Life

⥉ James Patrick March x fallen angel gn reader

*ೃ༄ ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ *ೃ༄

╰─▸ ❝ (2) мαѕтєяℓιѕт ꨄ︎ꨄ︎ꨄ︎ ❞

*ೃ༄ ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ *ೃ༄

#master list #navigation #yandere blog #multi fandom blog #multi fandoms posts #my blog

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camillemontespan · 4 months

Text

the best mistake he never had [drake x Camille au] part six: whiskey and fairylights

Drake went home to his apartment in town. It was small and bare, purely functional. He rented it because it was cheap and it meant he had his own life away from the ranch.

If that life involved drinking nightly at the bar and eating instant noodles in his crappy kitchen.

Drake slumped down on the couch and looked around. God, it was quiet.

Maybe he should get a dog?

Nah, too small a space for a dog

A cat?

Fuck that actually, cats were evil.

He felt empty. That was his overwhelming feeling right now and he didn't like it.

Drake's thoughts fluttered to Camille and Lily.

He hoped Lily was alright in the hospital and was getting some well deserved sleep. He hoped Camille was with her grandma and feeling less angry and more happy instead.

Drake pulled himself up from the couch and went to the crappy kitchen. He opened the cupboard and found a half empty bottle of whiskey.

Fuck it, that'll do.

*******************

‘I hate him, grandma,’ Camille sniffled.

She was cuddled up against Gisele. The two of them were lying in Gisele's bed, Camille with her head leant gently against her grandmothers shoulder. The TV was on, playing Some Like It Hot.

Gisele gently smoothed her hand across Camille's hair, trying to soothe her.

Camille had come home from the hospital crying. In a fit of sobs, she told Gisele that Lily was being kept overnight and how worried she was about her daughter. How they had never spent a night apart.

And then she told her about Drake.

If Gisele could gather strength and throttle Drake Walker, she would do it.

She always tried her best to keep her opinions about Drake to herself. She didn't want to sway Camille's perspective about anything. Plus, Drake was Bianca's son and Gisele liked Bianca.

But knowing how much he had hurt her granddaughter made Gisele angry inside.

Quite frankly, Gisele thought Drake Walker was a putain d'idiot.

‘I shouldn't have asked him why he rejected me,’ Camille said quietly. ‘That was a mistake.’

Gisele shook her head. ‘Never mistakes, only lessons.’

Camille smiled weakly.

Gisele pressed a soft kiss onto Camille's forehead. ‘You should be with a man who wants you AND Lily,’ she said. ‘Someone who isn't afraid to jump in with both feet.’

Camille kept her eyes fixed on the TV, watching Marilyn Monroe wiggle her hips.

‘I just want Lily to be happy,’ Camille told her. ‘That’s my only priority.’

**************

Drunk off whiskey, Drake was thinking.

He lay on his back on the couch staring up at the ceiling which was moving.

He was thinking about Camille and that night. The night that changed everything.

**********************

F I V E Y E A R S A G O

Camille was drunk from tequila shots.

What had started as a ‘have one drink at the bar’ with Maxwell had turned into cocktails which turned into tequila and now she was insisting on dancing.

Dancing with Drake Walker.

He was her grandma's neighbour. They had attended the same high school -as did everyone in Applewood - and Camille had always had a crush on him.

Drake didn't know that of course.

There was just something about him. Sure, he was handsome in that rugged kind of way. He was tall with broad shoulders and big hands that looked like they could protect you from anything.

His brown eyes were kind eyes.

She liked that he was different to everyone else in Applewood. It was a small town, everyone knew everyone's business. But Drake didn't get involved with that. He always kept to himself, always walking around with an air of mystery about him.

Camille had tried her best to get to know him through the years but he held everyone at arms length. With her in particular .

Most people would have called him rude but to Camille, she thought he was shy.

He was sitting on the bar stool now with Leo sitting next to him. Leo's brother, Liam, was leaning against the bar.

Liam and Leo were laughing at Camille's attempts to get Drake to dance with her.

‘Camille, he isn't going to do it!’ Liam said, his eyes sparkling. ‘Trust me on this.’

Camille pulled on Drake's hands. ‘Come on, Drake! Show me your best moves!’

Drake groaned. ‘No way, Montespan. Dance with Liam.’

Camille pouted. ‘Absolutely not, he'd show me up.’

Liam laughed and winked at Camille. ‘Yeah, our prom queen and king dance didn't go well…’

Camille rolled her eyes good-naturedly and then turned her attention back to Drake.

He eyed her, waiting for her next move.

Drake quite enjoyed a drunk Camille. She was always fun but get her tipsy on tequila and she burned brighter than the universe.

He kept his face neutral, determined not to show her he was enjoying this.

‘Hey, I’ll dance with you, Cammy,’ Leo said, gently pulling Camille into him. Camille leaned back into Leo’s chest, letting him wrap his arms around her.

Drake swallowed, trying his best to push down the jealousy. Surely Leo and Camille weren't a thing? Or had a thing?

Nah, Camille had standards.

‘Any excuse to get your hands on her,’ Liam teased him.

Camille giggled and turned to nip Leo's earlobe with her teeth.

Leo’s eyes widened. ‘Guys, if Camille Montespan is coming onto me, she's fucked.’

He swiftly deposited Camille onto Drake's lap. ‘She’s all yours.’

Camille let out a cheer and threw her arms around him. He could smell her perfume and god, she smelled incredible. ‘Yay, Drake! I'm here, let's dance!’

Drake shook his head, chuckling. ‘Nope. Leo's right, if you're coming onto him, you're fucked.’

‘I came onto Leo?’

The guys exchanged glances. Liam let out a whistle. ‘Get her home, Drake.’

Drake blinked. ‘Uhhh.. why me?’

‘Because she's obsessed with you tonight,’ Liam told him. He clapped Drake on the shoulder. ‘Good luck my friend.’

******************

It took thirty minutes to reach Camille's apartment in town.

It should have been a five minute walk.

Camille kept stopping and getting distracted. Normally, this kind of behaviour would have irritated Drake but because it was Camille, he didn't mind.

She dropped her keys on the doormat twice until Drake stepped in to help.

He had never been to her apartment before. Walking inside, he noted it was quite plush.

Camille wasn't rich by any means but she somehow managed to make the place elegant with thick white carpet, beautiful artwork on the walls and pillar candles dotted around randomly.

She kicked off her boots. ‘Want a beer?’ she asked, stumbling through to the kitchen.

Drake followed her. ‘Uhhh sure.’

He watched as she took a beer from the fridge and handed it to him. Their fingers brushed and Drake swore he felt electricity.

Camille pulled open a drawer and took out a box of ibuprofen and poured herself a glass of water. She winked at Drake. ‘See, I'm not a total liability.’

She swallowed the pill and downed the water. Still stumbling, she took Drake by the hand and led him through to the living room.

‘Camille, shouldn't you get to bed?’ Drake asked.

‘I’m not sleepy!’ Camille said, giving him a beaming smile. She made her way across the floor and opened the french doors. They stepped out onto a fairylight covered balcony which overlooked the square.

‘Cute balcony you have here, Montespan,’ Drake told her, looking around.

Camille smiled. ‘It’s the reason I took this apartment. I like sitting out here and people watching. You wanna sit?’

They both settled down at the little wooden table and looked out over the balcony in comfortable silence.

‘How are you feeling?’ Drake asked.

Camille snorted. Actually snorted.

‘Pretty buzzed.’

Drake laughed and leaned back in the chair. ‘Not surprised. You can really knock back the tequila.’

Camille pretended to bow. ‘Thank you, thank you…’

Drake chuckled and sipped his beer. Camille eyed him. ‘Want something stronger?’

Drake considered this. Sitting on this balcony with Camille was a nice experience. It made him feel cosy.

‘Sure. What you got?’

‘Whiskey.’

Drake smirked. ‘Woman after my own heart.’

Camille blushed and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. She excused herself and left Drake to sit in comfortable silence on this glittering balcony, listening to the sound of people in the square laughing and talking as they enjoyed their Friday evening.

She came back with a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. She poured them both a measure and settled back on the chair, tucking her legs up underneath her.

‘So, Drake Walker,’ she said. ‘How’s life treating you?’

Drake sipped from his glass as he pondered her question. ‘Can’t really complain, Montespan,’ he said breezily. ‘Spend my days working at the ranch and hang out in the evenings. What about you?’

Camille smiled. ‘It’s good. Got this cute apartment and a cute guy in front of me.’

Drake rolled his eyes but couldn't help his smile. ‘Jesus, I'm gonna have to start calling you Leo.’

Camille giggled and sipped her whiskey. ‘I’m drunk, don't judge me.’

Drake studied her for a moment. She was so relaxed. Everything about her was effortless. She didn't even have to try. She was effortlessly sweet and effortlessly funny and effortlessly gorgeous.

‘I’m getting itchy feet though,’ Camille said. ‘Like… I want something more.’

Drake raised an eyebrow. ‘What does that mean?’

Camille shrugged. ‘I like my life, sure. But I want more. I feel like I'm just doing the same thing everyday. It's only me and my grandma really. But I just.. want the next step.’

‘What’s the next step?’

Camille downed her whiskey. ‘A family.’

Drake whistled. ‘Wow, I was thinking you meant travelling or something. That's cool, you always wanted a family?’

‘Since I was a little girl,’ Camille admitted. ‘You know that my parents aren't around anymore. So I guess I've always wanted a family to call my own. I love my grandma but I just.. I want someone to come home to and be safe with.’

Drake poured some more whiskey. ‘I’m sure you'll find that person,’ he said softly. ‘And you'll have a family and be happy.’

Camille sipped more whiskey. ‘Do you see yourself having a family?’

Drake smirked. ‘Nope. I don't think I'm the kind of guy women want.’

She frowned. Her eyebrows knitted together and her pixie nose wrinkled. She looked adorable.

‘I beg to differ,’ she said bluntly.

Drake laughed. ‘Camille, you're drunk.’

‘You’re too hard on yourself.’

In the silence that followed, Drake downed his whiskey, letting it burn his throat. He topped himself up and drank another.

‘Thirsty?’ Camille asked.

‘Always,’ Drake said.

‘I think you'd be a great husband,’ Camille told him. ‘I mean, you're very handsome and rugged-’

‘I’m really not-’

‘And you're also really funny? Like you can be so sarcastic and dry and I love it. You don't take any shit but you're also really sweet and kinda dorky? You're just an all round good guy.’

Drake could feel himself blushing. ‘Shucks, Montespan.’

‘It’s true!’ Camille hollered, pointing in the air. ‘You’re gorgeous.’

‘You’re drunk.’

‘So are you.’

She was right. Drake could feel the effects of the whiskey now. He felt warm and fuzzy.

There was a loaded silence between them. Drake could see Camille's eyes fixed on him, her glass of whiskey pressed against her lower lip. God, he wanted to kiss that lip.

‘What about you?’ she finally said. ‘What’s your dream?’

Drake tossed back his whiskey. ‘Honestly? I guess leave here. I love Texas but there's more out there. I went to college in New York for a semester but that didn't work out… so I guess I'd like to live in New York properly.’

Camille grinned. ‘Which college?’

‘Columbia,’ Drake told her. ‘I enjoyed learning. Lots of people spend their time partying but I knuckled down.’

‘Why did you leave?’

Drake went quiet. He sipped his whiskey.

‘My mom got depressed,’ he said softly. ‘The pills in the bathroom were startin’ to look real friendly. So I came home.’

As he thought back to that awful time, he realised that he couldn't stop talking. Maybe it was the whiskey, maybe it just because talking to Camille felt good, but he found that he couldn't shut up.

‘I know she struggled after dad died,’ he said, ‘and what with my sister just up and leaving. I came home because I couldn't lose her. I couldn't lose another person in my family.’

He smirked. ‘I guess I also came home for selfish reasons. The thought of being alone.. it freaks me out. I'm usually always alone anyway but to be ALONE alone with no family. So I started working at the ranch, helped her talk to a doctor, made sure she was looking after herself. And I guess I've stayed there ever since. She's my momma. I love her.’

Camille tilted her head and observed him. Without a word, she stood up and knelt down in front of him.

‘Camille, what are you-’

She kissed him deeply.

She tasted of watermelon lipbalm and whiskey. Drake made a low noise in his throat. Her lips were like paradise.

An animal instinct kicked in. Drake raked his hands through her dark hair, pulling her closer so their chests were flush against each other.

Camille gripped onto his broad shoulders, deepening the kiss.

Drake pulled away and stared at her, his eyes wide and pupils dialated. ‘Should we doing this? You've been drinking -’

‘I want to,’ Camille said simply. Her mouth crashed against his again. Drake held her close, his tongue twisting around hers, unable to comprehend the fact that he was kissing Camille Montespan.

Camille stood up, breaking the kiss. Drake was on his feet after her. He looked down into her brown eyes, his chest heaving and heart pounding.

‘Come with me,’ she whispered.

She took him by the wrist and gently pulled him from the balcony and through her apartment towards her bedroom.

*******************

No.

Drake had to stop thinking about her. Stop thinking about that night. Stop torturing himself.

Just stop.

#drake walker #trr fanfic #the royal romance #drake walker x mc #drake x camille #trr #choices the stories you play

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tessa-liam · 1 year

Text

Smoke and Mirrors

We're Ready For Anything

Chapter 7

Smoke and Mirrors

-7- We're Ready for Anything

Book: The Royal Romance Finale +, Alternate Universe

Series Premise: Hidden in the shadows, poised to challenge the status quo are enemies of the state. The loyalties and honesty of family and friends will be tested. ‘Keep your friends close, your enemies closer.’

Catch Up: Smoke and Mirrors Masterlist

Main Pairing: Liam Rys x F!MC Riley Brooks-Rys, OTP ‘Liri’

2nd Pairings: Leo Rys x Amalas, Drake Walker x F!OC Delaney Leigh, Olivia Nevrakis x M!OC Alex Cossoy

All characters belong to Pixelberry, except Delaney Leigh, Officer Alex Cossoy, Geoffrey Bessler (Amalas’ head guard.)

Rating: M🔞*Series Warnings: NSFW material, sexual innuendo, adult innuendo, adult language/swearing/drinking, gun violence.

Not Beta'd, please excuse all errors.

Category: Alternate Universe/on-going series/angst/fluff

Words: 2274, Read: 10 minutes

Chapter 7: We’re Ready for Anything

Chapter Summary: Liam and Riley find out more about their twins and Lena is captured by Interpol.

Music and Title Inspiration: Ready for Anything, Landon Austin

A/N1: My submission for @choicesflashfics Week #32, Prompt #2 - “Sometimes memories can be the worst form of torture.”

A/N2: My submission for May Choices Monthly Challenge @choiceschallenge-may2023 @jerzwriter @maychallenge prompts - Mother’s Day, holding hands/ crying /caress

King’s Study, Cordonian Palace

It was late into the evening as Liam opened the financial report for Portavira on his computer. Taking note that Duke Ebrim was requesting a sizeable amount of emergency funds for the coastal region in the form of stipends.

Opening his e-mail to respond, a knock on his study door got his attention.

“Come.” Liam called out and continued typing, not taking his focus off the screen.

“Hey, Li. Am I interrupting?” Drake asked hesitantly.

Without looking up, Liam answered, “Drake, hey...what brings you here tonight?”

“Well, I need your advice on something.”

Closing his laptop, Liam stood up and walked to his bar cart, picking up two glasses and a bottle of Macallan.

Liam chuckled, “Why do I think this has something to do with a certain blond in your life?”

“Yeah, well...”

Pouring two glasses of scotch, Liam slid one to Drake and sat back down, taking a sip.

“Delaney wants to visit her parents in Austin....and she wants me to go with her.”

Drake exhaled a breath and Liam grinned.

“So, what’s the problem, Drake? Nervous about meeting your future in-laws?”

Drake shot his friend a look, and Liam roared in laughter.

“Seriously, Drake? This is not a problem, buddy!”

“Yeah, well...the thing is, her parents are pressuring her to move back home to the States. Laney is seriously considering it.”

Shaking his head, “Laney wants me to move back with her.”

Liam looked at his friend, noting the conflict in his expression.

“I don’t want to lose her, Li. I also don’t want to leave Cordonia.”

Queen’s Study, Monterissian Palace

“Geoffrey, do you have the video footage of the arrest from last night taken outside the palace?”

Amalas spoke to her guard through the speakerphone on her desk.

“Not at this time, your majesty. Interpol has not uploaded the file yet to our systems.”

“Wait a second. Pause and rewind...what did you just say?” Leo asked incredulously.

“Your majesty?” Geoffrey asked questionably.

“Leo, its protocol that the Interpol inspectors have access to all palace systems ahead of my Royal guard.” Amalas answered.

“Access, yes, but to commandeer all viewing?” Leo challenged.

“Thank you, Geoffrey, that will be all at this time.” Amalas tapped the app closed and spun around her chair, glaring at Leo.

“What the hell, Ams? You are taking orders from some ‘suit’ in Lyon, France? ….Why?”

“First of all, I don’t care for your tone. Do. Not. Speak. To. Me. Like I don’t run this country! Especially in front of my people.” Amalas countered angrily.

Leo sat back in his chair and closed his eyes. It was a challenge for the former Crown Prince to remember not to interject his personal opinions into conversations with the Monterissian Royal guard.

Amalas is the Queen, and he was overstepping.

“Secondly, I appreciate the expertise and assistance of Interpol.”

Leo sighed, shaking his head in disbelief. “I am surprised, to say the least. The ‘Spy Queen’ needing help in her own country.”

“And thirdly,” Amalas stood and frowned at Leo. “I am respecting the King of Cordonia’s request for a united front to uncover the truth behind the duplicity of the Royal guard in our countries.”

“Leo, we need to ‘cut the head off’ of this faction. There is someone or something controlling and directing operatives, like Bastien in Cordonia, that has infiltrated our highest security levels in the Royal guard of our countries.”

“Case in point: how a known fugitive can gain access to my private chambers, can pass through my security protocols. Allowed access to the Crown Princess of visiting monarchs, no less.”

“I get it Ams, I really do. ….and I am truly sorry.” Leo sighed and shook his head.

Amalas stood and walked over to Leo. Taking his face in her hands, she kissed his lips sweetly and touched her forehead to his.

Clearing his throat, Geoffrey stood outside the open door and waited to make his presence known.

“Your majesty.”

Amalas turned to look at her head guard. “Yes, Geoffrey?”

“Interpol has successfully captured and detained the security breach.”

Cordonian Palace

It was shortly after 1 am when Liam returned to the south wing of the palace. Loosening his tie, he nodded at Mara as she stood guard outside of Eleanor’s chambers and continued to walk to his personal chamber he shared with Riley.

After preparing for bed, he opened the veranda door and stepped out into the cool night air. Looking out over the gardens, he took a deep breath and smiled. Tomorrow, he and Riley would find out the sex of their twin babies. He grinned thinking about all the possibilities, but if he was being truly honest with himself, he favored having a son. Or...he chuckled, maybe another Ellie.

Shaking his head, he decided to turn in for the night to get some sleep considering the day would bring much excitement for him and his family.

Approaching his side of the king-sized bed, he noticed that Riley’s side of the bed was slept in, but Riley was not in bed.

Liam went to his closet and slid on a pair of sweatpants. After stepping into the hallway, he returned down the hall towards Ellie’s chambers. He quietly opened her bedroom door and entered the darkened room. Beside her canopy bed, the single night light glowed, and he saw his daughter's outline. Wrapped snugly and securely in her mother’s arms, she was fast asleep along with Riley.

As he placed a soft kiss on Ellie’s forehead, Riley awoke and smiled. “Hi”, Riley whispered and touched his hand. After carefully detaching her arms from her daughter, she rose from bed to join her husband in their bedroom.

Liam closed the door behind him, after following Riley.

Joining his wife under the silk sheets, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close to him.

“That’s better,” nuzzling her neck.

Smiling, Riley ran her fingers through his soft hair. “Working late tonight?”

“Yes, and no... Drake came to see me tonight.”

“Oh really, and here I thought you were avoiding me,” Riley smirked.

“Never!” Liam playfully teased.

“So, what was so important for Drake to pay such a late visit?"

“AHHHH, well...he wanted my advice. Drake is debating whether he should a, stay in Cordonia; or b, move to Delaney's home in Texas. And c, where he should go with his relationship with Delaney.”

Riley looked at her husband, “I know what you said.”

“I know you do, love,” kissing Riley’s nose.

“Home is where your love of your life is. I asked him what his true feelings were for Delaney. Once he can honestly answer that question, he will have his answer.”

Monterrisian Palace

The temperature in the Monterrisian palace holding cell area was at least 10 degrees cooler in the lower-level security offices. Amalas and Leo followed the Interpol officers and were shown to the viewing privacy window. Amalas was accustomed to the temperature change, but Leo had shivers go down his spine; from the temperature change, or nerves, or both.

On the other side of that window, Lena Rys was sitting in a chair alongside a female Royal guard. On the other side of the table sat Alex Cossoy and Olivia Nevrakis.

Amalas listened intently to the questioning, while Leo stared at the blond woman. Shock, mixed with disbelief left him speechless.

“What is your end game?” Olivia asked impatiently

“My end game is to take my place in the Rys family,” Lena coolly answered.

Olivia eyed Lena in disdain.

“My mother told me that my father wanted to hide me from my half-brother. That the ‘Cordonian royal family can’t find out who I really am... for my sake’.”

“’That’s horrible’,” Olivia sighed.

“’I didn’t want to believe those things about my family, but my mother had never lied to me’.”

"Your mother?"

"Yes, Sigrid took care of me in place of my true mother."

“You were brainwashed, she was obviously lying to you!” Olivia seethed.

“’I saw what Cordonia’s royal family really thinks of me when King Constantine came to Vallenheim for a diplomatic visit’.”

“’King Constantine told my mother that he wanted no part in foreign influences on Cordonia. He said that Queen Eleanor is gone. Which is why he wanted nothing to do with me. That Eleanor was her friend, but that association ended when Eleanor died. He does not owe us anything’.”

“My mother wanted me to meet my brothers, but Constantine said ‘he won’t be guilted with a child.’

I remember that my mother begged Constantine to meet me, and Constantine said no. 'My sons and I want nothing to do with me, my mother, Vallenheim, or any of our people!’”

My mother told me, 'This is exactly why Queen Eleanor wanted me kept away from Cordonia.’"

Lena’s eyes 'welled with tears that are equal parts anger and sadness.'

“In that moment, I knew everything my mother had said about my father and brothers was true.”

“Sometimes memories can be the worst form of torture.”

Olivia stood up and paced the floor. Stopping directly in front of Lena,

“’Liam didn’t even know about you. Your brother is a better man than your father was.’”

“’I always resented Leo and Liam for having the life I could’ve had in Cordonia. I’ll even admit to envying Liam’s throne.’”

“’He’s a lot more than you were told. You might even like him if you gave him half a chance.’”

Lena’s features hardened, “’I think that ship sailed a while ago.’”

Dr Rameriz’s office, Cordonia

Looking at her reflection in the changing room, Riley placed her hands on her tummy. Her belly had grown so quickly this time around. Her morning sickness was now gone, and she felt more energized.

Slipping on the hospital gowni and robe, she opened the door to be greeted by the nurse.

“Your majesty”, the nurse curtsied and opened the door to the examination room.

Liam quickly stood offering his wife his hand.

“Are you ready for this, my love?”

“Oh Yes, Liam! Let’s do this!

Chuckling, he helped Riley get comfortable on the exam table, as the nurse placed a heated thermal blanket over top. Grasping his hand, she laid back and relaxed against the pillow.

Dr. Ramirez greeted the monarchs with a warm smile.

“Okay, today we are going to find out which sexes these little ones are.”

“Most definitely,” Liam smiled, squeezing Riley’s hand as she also smiled.

The doctor placed the doppler wand and the sound of heartbeats immediately could be heard.

“I will never tire from hearing those sounds.” Liam watched the monitor as the babies appeared.

Riley let out a breath and started to tear, squeezing Liam’s hand even more.

“So, what do you think, love?” Liam asked.

Riley grinned, “It’s a boy.”

The doctor nodded, “incredibly good instincts. Your majesties, you have a son.”

Liam beamed with joy and kissed his wife.

“...and baby number two?”

“A boy,” Riley answered.

The doctor shook her head smiling.

‘Your wife’s instincts are quite correct. Your children are both boys.”

Liam let out a breath.

Riley, now crying, was overcome with emotion.

“Riley, love,” Liam whispered, raising her hand, and softly kissed her palm.

“Yeah?”

“You did it again.”

Riley looked up at Liam with a question in her eyes.

Caressing her swollen tummy, “You made another dream come true for me. I love you so, so much.”

Riley, full of emotion, answered back, “as do I.”

Wrapping his arms around her, he kissed her lips and said, “let’s go home.”

Liam and Riley walked slowly out of the hospital, holding hands, both smiling as they approached the waiting SUV.

“We should spend the weekend in Valtoria.’ Liam smiled.

“I would love that, and I know that Ellie will be ecstatic to go to the festival in town.”

Liam grinned as he followed Riley into the SUV.

Not mentioning that he and Ellie have a special Mother’s Day celebration planned at the estate already for her.

🤎🤎🤎🤎🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🤎🤎🤎🤎

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deb-1106 · 1 year

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Choices Flash Fic week 31

Hey all!! ❤️

Because we've both been out of the game so long, and have really missed writing, my good friend (she was actually my very FIRST friend on this hellsite 😋❤️) @walkerismychoice and I have decided to motivate each other by writing together using our LI's and MC's from different choices books. I'll be using Drake Walker and my MC, Ava Matheson from TRR, and Maggie will be using Bryce Lahela and her MC, Charlie Hawkins from Open Heart.

This story will hopefully be the first of a weekly series of one-shots using @choicesflashfics prompts.

We hope you enjoy reading it as much as we enjoyed writing it! ❤️

Prompt 3 — “Wait a second. Pause and rewind … what did you just say?”

Book: TRR/OPH

Pairings: Drake x Ava, Bryce x Charlie

Rating: M

TW: Gun Violence

“Little Blossom?”

Ava’s eyes flew open.

She was momentarily disoriented, caught somewhere between a memory and a nightmare. But as her eyes focused and she took in the institutional green walls and naugahyde seating of a hospital waiting room, the crushing reality of the evening’s events came flooding back.

***

Ava! Get down!”

Drake’s warning was the last thing she heard before his body slammed into hers, knocking her to the ground. She screamed as a bomb exploded nearby, raining chunks of rubble down all around them as the acrid smell of gunfire burned her nostrils.

“Drake?” She cried, “Drake, we have to get out of here!

He didn’t move.

“Drake!“ Ava began to panic as she felt the warm, sticky dampness of his blood seep into her ballgown. She reached out to press her hand to his cheek and his eyelids fluttered open for just a moment. He gave her a small smile.

“I love you, Matheson.” He mumbled faintly as his eyes closed once again.

“NO! Drake, wake up! Please, baby. I need you to wake up!” She tried to wiggle out from underneath him, but the weight of his body was too much for her.

HELP!” She screamed, praying that her cries were loud enough to be heard over the chaos around them, “PLEASE! … SOMEBODY HELP US!”

After what felt like an eternity, she felt Drake’s weight lifted from her body. She immediately scrambled to her knees crawling on all fours to where he lay prone on the ballroom floor, his suit soaked with blood.

“Oh my God!” She gasped, “Drake!”

Bastien was kneeling over him, both hands pressed over a wound in Drake's shoulder as he barked out orders. “I NEED A MEDIC AND AN UNMARKED CAR…NOW!”

“Bastien! What’s going on?” Tears streamed down Ava’s face as she grabbed Drake’s hand, alarmed by how cold it felt.

“Terrorist attack. Drake took a bullet.”

Ava looked to Bastien for reassurance, “But…he’s going to be okay, right?”

He wouldn’t meet her eyes.

“Bastien! Tell me he’s going to be okay.” She begged, “Please!”

He finally looked up, and the expression on his face made Ava’s blood run cold.

“The wound is close to his heart and he’s lost a lot of blood.” Bastien’s voice was somber, “If we can get him to the hospital quickly, he might have a chance.”

“Might?” Ava pressed a hand over her mouth and felt her stomach lurch.

No! This can’t be happening. We were finally going to start our lives together. I can’t lose him now.

***

Maxwell knelt down beside the chair Ava had finally collapsed into after pacing the hospital corridors for hours. He placed his hand over hers and squeezed gently. “There’s a nurse here who wants to talk to you.”

Heart hammering in her chest, Ava jumped to her feet, ignoring the pain of her own injuries as she anxiously faced the young nurse standing in the doorway.

“Is he okay?” She asked, “Is he out of surgery? Can I see him?”

The nurse smiled kindly, the rapid-fire questions not phasing her in the least.

“Mr. Walker is still in surgery…”

When Ava’s face crumpled, the nurse crossed the room to place a comforting hand on her arm, “But he has one of our top surgeons working on him, so rest assured, he’s in the best possible hands.” She smiled warmly, “In fact, Dr. Lehela wanted me to let you know that Mr. Walker is out of the woods. The bullet has been removed and they’re just cleaning out the remaining debris. There was some concern about bone fragments splintering off and causing damage to the surrounding heart tissue, but that doesn't appear to have been the case.”

Ava felt her legs go weak with relief.

“Oh, Thank God.”

She felt Maxwell’s arms encircle her and sank wearily into his comforting embrace.

“See, Blossom.” He said, encouragingly, “I told you he was going to be okay. It’ll take more than a tiny little bullet to take him out.”

Ava nodded and squeezed Max’s hand without breaking eye contact with the nurse.

“How much longer do you think it’ll be before I can see him?”

“Once he’s out of surgery, he’ll go to recovery." She replied with a comforting smile. "It’s hard to say how long he’ll be there, as everyone comes out of anesthesia differently, but a conservative estimate would be another hour or two. Then he’ll be settled into a room and can receive visitors.”

Ava nodded and swiped at the tears which were once again sliding down her cheeks. But this time, they were tears of relief.

“Thank you.”

The nurse smiled. “Of course. I’ll come get you when I have his room assignment.”

Ava thanked her again.

Drake was going to be okay. Liam had been unharmed in the attack and Bastien and Kiara came away with only minor injuries. Somehow they’d all survived.

Suddenly Ava’s stomach growled…LOUDLY.

Maxwell laughed. “Okay, now that we know Drake is okay…it’s time to take care of YOU.”

Ava began to protest but Maxwell was already propelling her toward the door. “No more excuses! You need food, or at the very least some coffee, or you’ll find yourself in a hospital bed of your own. Now MOVE!”

Maxwell was wearing his stubborn expression, so Ava knew resistance was futile.

She let him lead her down to the Cafeteria. “I’ll go back up to the waiting room and let you know immediately if I hear anything from the doctors.”

“Thank you.” Ava replied weekly before walking through the cafeteria doors and meandering aimlessly towards the various food offerings.

—--

Charlie checked the time on her Apple watch. Wow, a whole 30 minutes for lunch today, she thought. Typically she was lucky to get half of that. Nobody ever told her the life of a hospital internist would be glamorous, but she still hadn’t been prepared for how tired and hungry she’d be so much of the time. Although they bill residency as a training program for your selected specialty, Charlie swore it was also meant to be a boot camp that only the strong survived. Only one more year and she’d have some semblance of a normal schedule as an attending physician.

“Coffee. Must have coffee first.” Charlie mumbled to herself, taking in the aroma of freshly brewed beans as she marched towards the machines only to be stopped in her tracks by someone hovering in front of them. Charlie went left, but then the woman went left. Then she tried to go right, but the woman shuffled to the right. Her patience running thin, Charlie spoke up. “Excuse me, could I sneak in here?”

“I’m sorry.” The woman spun to face her, and Charlie’s irritation melted away. The woman looked sad and tired for sure, but that was not an uncommon sight for visitors of the hospital cafeteria. There was something about her that drew Charlie in and made her want to comfort the woman. Maybe it was the fact that Charlie could see a little bit of herself in her - definitely not the flawless deep olive skin tone and dark hair, wildly contrasting with Charlie’s strawberry blonde locks and accompanying creamy white skin, but they appeared about the same age, and there was just something there that made them alike. Although Charlie was not prone to striking up friendships with hospital visitors, something told Charlie this was a connection she should make.

“Let me buy you a coffee.” Charlie offered.

The woman looked Charlie up and down, seemingly noting Charlie’s white coat and ID badge. “No, that’s okay. You can just go first. I have no idea what I want.”

“Please, I insist. Free coffee is one of the few perks I get for devoting my life to this place.” They both laughed and Charlie saw the first little spark of life return to the woman’s eyes.

Charlie grabbed two prepackaged sandwiches to go with the coffees and brought them over to the woman who had already seated herself at a cafeteria table.

"Thank you so much…" she glanced at the ID badge again, "....Dr. Hawkins. "I was too much of a wreck to even pick out something to eat. I'm sure you're busy, but would you care to join me?"

Again, it wasn't typical of Charlie to hang out with random hospital guests, but she knew this woman needed a friend right now, and maybe that feeling was mutual. "Sure, I still have about 20 more minutes." Charlie sat down. "But you can call me Charlie."

"Well thank you again, Charlie, I'm Ava."

"Nice to meet you, Ava." Charlie hesitated for a moment before asking, "If it's not too forward, do you want to talk about your loved one here that's got you so worried?... Only if you want to talk about it."

Ava's facial expression grew somber once again. She took a deep breath before letting everything spill out - getting invited to Cordonia on a whim to compete for the future King's heart, fate stepping in when she fell for his best friend Drake instead, and all the political drama and everything leading up to the events that brought her to this particular hospital cafeteria. Despite the tears streaming down Ava’s face, the air about her felt a little bit lighter.

"I'm sorry." Charlie squeezed Ava’s hand from across the table. "This must be so scary for you, but Edenbrook is a great hospital. I'm sure Drake is in great hands. Do you know who his surgeon is? I probably know them or at least know of them.”

Ava pursed her lips in concentration. “Dr, La-....hala? I think it’s something like that.”

Charlie smirked. “Young, kind of surfer boy-esque, and cocky as all hell because he knows how good-looking he is?”

Ava laughed nervously. “Yeah, that sounds like him. Please tell me he’s also a good surgeon.”

“Dr. Lahela can be kind of cocky bastard at times, but I love him. And yes, he’s a great surgeon, and I’m not just saying that because I’m biased.”

“Wait…” Ava seemed to be putting the pieces together. “You like love, love him? Are you two-”

“Yes, Bryce is my boyfriend. I might not have been so complimentary about his other characteristics otherwise.”

They both devolved into laughter until Ava spoke up again. “I like your sense of humor. Sounds like you need it to put up with him, just like me with my….Drake.” Ava quiets for a moment and then asks, “So I take it you two met here at Edenbrook?”

“Well, that’s a funny story.” Charlie wondered if she really wanted to get into this with a relative stranger, but Ava had already shared so much and could probably use the distraction anyway. “We actually met at a strip club, and believe it or not, Bryce was a stripper.”

Ava’s eyes opened wide. “Wait a second. Pause and rewind … what did you just say?”

Charlie inhaled deeply. “Okay, I don’t have a ton of time left on my break, so I’ll give you the condensed version. My med school friends dragged me out to a strip club to celebrate after we graduated. I was in a funk because I’d been recently dumped by the douchebag I thought I was going to marry and to top it off, I was set to be in my awful cousin’s weeklong wedding extravaganza and was in no mood to be questioned about the whereabouts of my plus one. Said friends paid for a private lap dance for me. In my drunken state, I got the bright idea to hire the stripper to be my fake boyfriend for the wedding. Somewhere along the way, fake boyfriend turned into real love interest. I learned he wasn’t just a stripper but had worked his way through med school and was about to hang up his banana hammocks to start his residency. As fate would have it, we’d both matched at Edenbrook and two years later, here we are.”

“Woah. And I thought mine and Drake’s relationship had an unconventional start.” Ava peeked down at her phone on the table. “I’m definitely going to need the feature-length presentation of this story another time, but my friend Maxwell just texted that Drake’s out of surgery!”

“That’s great news!” Charlie got up with Ava and walked out to the elevators with her. “I’ll walk you back up there since I’m headed that way.

Little did either of them know that this chance meeting would be the beginning of a lifelong friendship.

Taglist: @ao719 @burnsoslow @sincerelyella @charlotteg234 @choiceswreckedme @walkerismychoice @txemrn @twinkleallnight @imashybish @blackcatkita @katedrakeohd @boneandfur @sfb123 @queenrileyrose @foreverethereal123 @kingliam2019 @nestledonthaveone @bebepac @petiteboheme @yukinagato2012 @princess-geek

**As always, if you want on or off my Tag List, let me know. **

#choices the royal romance #choices open heart #drake walker #bryce lahela #choicesflashfics #Walkerismychoice writes #Deb-1106 writes #choices fic writers #choices trr #choices oph

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bebepac · 9 months

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Six Sentence Sunday 08.06.23

So I decided to do a thing. Like I don’t have many “things” that are up in the air right now, I thought to myself, “Self, why not add one more thing to the mix? It’s for a rewrite challenge, and this Gif is giving you a clue as to what it’s going to be about. I recently watched the series Suits and had some critiques about it, so I decided coupled with the re-write challenge @choicesprompts put out, to put my spin on this series. So I will be presenting to you Riley Brooks, J.D. I know it’s late but I’m going to finish it along with the Rotten Apple (FINALLY) .

What I’ve written recently in case you missed it:

The Blue Honey Cafe: Moonlight Rendevous

Original Post: 08.06.23 at 9:23PM EST.

One Shot:

The Book: TRR / Suits

Pairings: Riley x Drake

Status: Still in the writing process

He was always up early, earlier than her when he came into town to visit. The long distance relationship worked for them, as they both had very high profile jobs. Drake Walker had always been gifted with his hands, skilled in architecture. He gently rubbed her back to wake her up.

“Good morning, Riley.”

“Good morning.” He was holding a cup of his infamously strong coffee he loved, that she happily drank only when he was around.

She took a sip her eyes widening, and Drake chuckled.

“You only drink this when I make it for you don’t you?”

“I plead the fifth.”

He kissed her lips. “You know that doesn’t work on me, you’re not in court.”

“Thought I would try. Do you really have to go back today?”

“I do. I have several meetings I have to attend, and some projects to oversee.”

“Objection.”

“Overruled. Is that right?”

“Yes, but also no.”

Elle Karahalios sighed in content as she basked in the sun on her honeymoon.

Chapter 17: The Wedding

The Book: TRH and Beyond

The Pairings: Eleanor x Nico (Eleanor x M!OC) / Liam x Riley

Series: The Rotten Apple 🍎

Status: Still in the writing process (I KNOW)

There was not a cloud in the sky and Mediterranean blue seas as far as the eye could see. Her father had wanted to pay for the honeymoon, but both Nico and Elle had refused, and her father didn’t know Greece like Nico did. He had decided on an island off the beaten path that had a more local feel, which she loved. She remembered traveling with her father they stayed in more touristy and five star locations. She preferred her husband’s pick in this aspect.

Her husband.... Nico Karahalios. They had been married for less than twenty four hours. She held up her hand, twirling it slightly catching the modest sized diamond’s sparkle in the sun. It really was a lovely heirloom ring that was passed from Nico’s mother to Nico, and now to her. Would Ana be the next woman to wear the ring that now was a family tradition? Only time would tell.

“Where is my husband?” she thought to herself.

His voice made her rise from her lawn chair, to turn to face him, a little chuckle escaping her lips.

He laughed as well, running his hands through his hair as he approached her.

“You look pretty comfortable sunbathing.”

“I am. This was the perfect spot for a honeymoon.”

“I wholeheartedly agree.”

His eyes had a mischievous glint to them, causing her smile to widen even more.

“What?”

“Would you do me a favor?”

“Anything.”

#bebepac writes #six sentence sunday #always more than six #cfwc sunday six #the rotten apple #trr riley brooks #choices fanfiction #play choices #choices fic writers creations #writeblr

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cordonianroyalairlines · 8 months

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Cordonian Royal Airlines

…where we treat every passenger like royalty. The ultimate in air travel. Luxurious private jets for booking to exclusive locales. Small, private, elite.

Welcome to Cordonian Royal Airlines (CRA), a TRR AU in the spirit of Wings and LA to Vegas.

Leo and Liam Rys, two brothers, both pilots, decide to go into business together, operating a small, private, elite airline that flies exclusive clientele to exotic locales in the lap of luxury. A non-chronological series of loosely related one-shots and drabbles around the exploits of the crew of CRA.

This collaborative project is a joint effort of six creators: angelasscribbles, karahalloway, harleybeaumont, aussiegurl1234, nestledonthaveone and alj4890. Updates might not be frequent or often, but we hope they’re hilarious.

Pilots/Owners: Leo Rys, Liam Rys

First Officers: Drake Walker, Bertrand Beaumont

Flight Attendants: Riley Brooks, Maxwell Beaumont, Hana Lee, Kiara Theron

Office Manager: Madeleine Amaranth

World Renown In-Flight Chef: Olivia Nevrakis

Receptionist/Booking: Penelope Ebrim

Security: Bastien Lykel

Masterlist

Turbulence: Riley confronts Drake with unexpected results.

All I Want for Christmas Part 1: The crew is grounded by a blizzard.

All I Want for Christmas Part 2: Drake does something unexpected.

Ball Drop: Drake and Riley end up in the same place on NYE.

Staking a Claim: Riley's ex shows up on a flight. Drake is less than pleased about it.

#trr au #trr fanfic #the royal romance #trr #trr fandom #cordonianroyalairlines #leo rys #riley brooks #liam rys #drake walker #maxwell beaumont #bertrand beaumont #olivia nevrakis #hana lee

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angelasscribbles · 1 year

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Change of Plans

Series: None, this is a one-shot and you can find those here.

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Riley x Drake

Rating: Teen

Warnings for this chapter: None

Word Count: 1,900

A/N: For those who aren't familiar with my TRR stuff, I always make Drake a captain in the royal guard. This is a one-shot AU where Drake goes after her to the airport the night of the coronation.

My submission for @choicesprompts

My other stuff: Master List.

“I didn’t mean it like that!”

“How did you mean it then?”

“You know…in a good way!”

“In what universe could what you just said be construed in a good way?”

They stood facing each other, hearts pounding, chests heaving with emotion.

Neither wanted to be the first to admit their feelings to the other.

“I’m leaving!”

“Wait! Please don’t! I….I’m ready to tell you the truth!”

Riley spun back toward Drake in the middle of the airport concourse, fury snapping in her eyes, arms folded across her chest, “What could you possibly have to say to follow that?”

If looks could kill, he’d be dead, resurrected, and killed again. She was mad. More than mad. She was furious and from the look in her eyes, out for blood. His.

But as afraid as he was to admit the truth to her, he was more afraid that if he let her walk away and get on that plane, she’d walk right out of his life forever and he’d never see her again.

“Okay, first of all,” he held his hands out in front of him in the universal gesture of surrender, “I would like a chance to rephrase that last statement! Please!”

“What’s there to say, Drake? You literally just said I told you so and insinuated that I’m not good enough to be here! As if any of what just happened was my fault! You of all people know the truth about what really happened that night!” She hated herself for the tears that swam in her eyes. She didn’t want him to think he’d made her sad when really they were angry tears, hot and bitter.

“No…” he shook his head slowly but resolutely, “When I said that I tried to warn you about what it was like here, that wasn’t an I told you so…okay, maybe it was but not in a mean way!”

“What other way is there to take that?”

“In an ‘I’m sorry you’re going through this’ kind of way!”

“And the rest of it?”

He drew in a deep, steadying breath before replying, “When I said that you didn’t belong here, I meant there, the palace, specifically, not here in Cordonia.”

“What’s the difference?” She snapped.

“There’s a huge difference, Riley! I didn’t mean that you weren’t good enough for them! I meant that they aren’t good enough for you!”

“What do you mean?” She sniffled, the flames of anger banked, but ready to flare again if he said the wrong thing.

“I mean….” He lowered his hands and chanced a step toward her, “You’re kind and you’re real, and that’s the opposite of what those stuck-up, entitled jackasses that hang around the palace just to kiss Liam’s ass are!”

“Yeah?” she asked, slightly mollified.

“Yeah,” he affirmed, taking another step toward her and reaching out to touch her face, “And your smart and funny and a bad ass at trivial pursuit and you’re the only person I know that can get Max to act right! I mean, you’re fucking amazing is what you are!”

She felt a flush creep up the back of her neck as her face flamed with heat, “What was that truth you were ready to tell me?”

Before he could answer, they were interpreted by a guardsman stepping forward and reaching for her arm, “Time to go!”

Drake moved between them and pushed Riley behind him, “She’s not going anywhere!”

“But, sir-“

“Lay a hand on her at your peril Lieutenant.”

“But my orders-“

“What were your orders exactly and where did they come from?”

“From my commanding officer, sir, Bastien Lykel. My orders were to remove her from the premises and escort her to the airport.”

“Which you’ve done,” Drake said through clenched teeth, “So you can go. I’ll take it from here.”

“Sir? I-“

“Dismissed, soldier!”

“Yes, Captain!” The man gave Riley a quick nod then turned on his heel and motioned to the other guard that had brought her to the airport.

As she watched them leave, she softly told him, “Thank you.”

“Yeah, it was nothing,” his face pinkened as he rubbed the back of his neck, “you’re welcome.”

“How did you get here so fast?”

“Well, when I couldn’t catch the car they put you in, I ran all the way back to the damn garages to get my bike and then exceeded every posted speed limit on the way here.”

“Why?”

“Why?” his eyes widened in astonishment, “To get to you before they put you on that fucking plane!”

“But why?” She asked again, her eyes darting back and forth between his face and the floor.

He blew out a nervous breath. He said he was ready to tell her the truth and here it was…the moment of truth. “Because I….because I like you, Riley! And I mean like you, like you…and I would have chased you all the way across the goddamn ocean if I had to!”

Happiness brimmed up in her heart, “You like me?”

“Yes, okay? I like you! I know I don’t show it most of the time but-“

A smile broke out across her face, “I like you too!”

His eyes snapped to her face, “You do?”

“Uh-huh,” she nodded happily, biting into her lower lip.

“There you are!”

Riley and Drake both turned toward the voice to find Max and Bertrand hurrying through the terminal in their direction.

Max swept her into a hug while Bertrand held back. After a brief conversation about what had actually happened the night Tariq came into her room, Bertrand laid out his plan for her to go with them to Ramsford, learn all the ins and outs of court and join Liam and Madeliene’s engagement tour.

“So you’re coming home with us,” Bertrand finished as he motioned toward the exit.

“The hell she is!” Drake barked as he took her arm and pulled her to him. Then he looked down at her and lowered his voice several decibels as he said, “Unless you want to go back to Ramsford and take princess lessons and do all the rest of that shit he just said.”

She shook her head, unable to hold back her smile as she laced her fingers through his, “No. I’d rather go with you! But I don’t think I can go back to the palace right now-“

“No need. I have a cabin in the woods on Lake Kenna we can stay at…I mean, if you want to that is…”

“Yes!” She answered quickly, “I want to!”

“Good!” He squeezed her hand and pulled her toward the exit, “Max, could you grab her bags? I can’t fit those on the back of my bike. You can drop them off at my place or we can come to Ramsford to pick them up tomorrow after I go back and get my car.”

“Yes!” Max agreed, “I’m so excited for you two! I knew it! I told you he liked you back!” Max squealed.

“But….” Bertrand spluttered as he hurried to keep up with them, “how are you going to win Liam back if you don’t come with us and go on the engagement tour?”

“Who says I want to win Liam back?”

“I…oh…what’s happening?”

“I’m sorry, Bertrand,” she turned to face him as they stopped on the walkway outside the terminal. “I know I came here to see if there was any real chance with Liam and I know this isn’t how you wanted things to end, but there wasn’t a real chance, that spark fizzled and died. I developed feelings for someone else.”

“Who?” He demanded before his fell to their clasped hands, “Oh….OH! Drake? Really?”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Drake huffed, “It’s insulting.”

“Well, I for one am happy for you both!” Max dropped her suitcases on the cement walkway so he could hug her again.

“Don’t hug me, Beaumont,” Drake warned as Max turned toward him with a grin.

“Fine,” Max’s face never lost the expression of pure gloating joy, “but I knew it! You were so fucking obvious, Drake!”

Drake looked away from the group and pushed out a breath of surprise before turning his head back to Riley, “Was I?”

“Little bit.”

“Well, it wasn’t obvious to me!” Bertrand protested, “How long has this been going on?”

“He kissed me in your study the night before the Beaumont Bash,” Riley answered.

Drake’s eyebrows raised, “Um…who kissed who, precisely?”

“Ok, Walker, I’ll give you that one, but you definitely kissed me earlier tonight, just before the coronation,” she said, her voice full of vindicated satisfaction.

“You….what?” Bertrand was spluttering again, “You….you kissed one of the king’s suitors minutes before she could have become your queen? What…what is wrong with you, man? What were you thinking?”

Drake surprised himself by not being embarrassed at the sappy grin that spread across his face, “I was thinking that if she was about to be engaged to my best friend, it was my last chance to kiss her and that I’d be a damned fool if I didn’t take it! And I stand by that.”

He turned his body into hers and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in close as his head dipped down to capture her lips with his.

Riley tipped her head back and leaned into him, returning his kiss with heat, fire, and passion, oblivious to strangers scurrying past, Bertrand’s scandalized gasp, and Max doing a happy dance next to them.

“Ahem!” Bertrand cleared his throat, loudly, “I…ah…am happy for you both, truly. I was just surprised. Still, propriety, please. Maybe save that for behind closed doors? There could be paparazzi anywhere out here and you’re already under a scandal for-“

“I don’t care,” she told him as she pulled away from Drake.

“What? But-“

“I did nothing wrong, and everyone that matters to me knows it. I’ll get around to making a statement telling the truth, but right now, all I want to do is be alone with Drake. We have some things to….figure out.”

And she certainly wasn’t going on any engagement tour. Fuck that.

The luggage was loaded into the limo and Bertrand asked, “Are you sure you don’t want a ride? We have a perfectly good car here, you don’t have to climb on the back of that death trap.”

“Hey!” Drake huffed, “That’s a top of the line Ducati and I’m an excellent rider!”

“Ah, Bert, you do care,” Riley stepped into him and drew him into a quick embrace.

The older Beaumont returned her gesture, “I have become quite…fond of you, Lady Riley. I do consider you family. You will always be a member of House Beaumont.”

“You’re going to make me cry!” She told him as she pulled away, wiping at her eyes.

“Me too!” Max agreed. “That was like a huge emotional declaration coming from my brother!”

She hugged Max goodbye as well and Drake helped her on the back of his bike, “You ready for this?” he asked as he handed her a helmet.

“More ready than I’ve ever been for anything in my life,” she told him.

“Good. Hold on tight,” he said as he started the bike and it lurched forward, into the darkness.

She held on to him with everything she had as they flew down the asphalt, hurtling through the Cordonian night, away from the palace and toward their future.

#trr au #drake walker #choicesprompts #angst with a happy ending #one shot #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week

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txemrn · 1 year

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Book: TRR/TRH (events actually occur in TRH Book 1)

Pairing: Liam x MC (Riley); Bertrand x Savannah

Word Count: ~2500

Warning: innuendos; a little language; fluffiness

A/N: I usually enjoy writing fairly angsty TRR material, but when I started gearing up for this past week's @kingliamappreciationweek, I decided I really wanted to write something new that wasn't so dramatic. So, I started thinking about how Liam is a history buff... and if y'all don't know this by now, I'm from Texas, and the thought of that tall glass of water knowing about my home state's history...whew... Give me a moment... This is pure silliness. It's a re-write of Bertrand's bachelor party/Savannah's bachelorette party, and it's just... silly. It does not follow canon very well. But, I hope you still enjoy it! Happy KLAW 2023, friends!

A/N 2: This is my submission for @choicesflashfics week 30! I will be using prompt 3: "That's how the story goes." It will be in bold.

A/N 3: These characters and some of the plot belong to our dear friends Pixelberry. This was not truly pre-read or beta'd. Please excuse my errors.

~👑~

"Alright, lil' ladies with the beautiful bride-to-be!" A burly bartender with a thick drawl and matching beard comes out from behind the counter, making his way to Savannah Walker's bachelorette party. Delivering a tray of golden caramel-colored shots, he piles each one high with decadent whipped cream. "Here ya go: six blow job shots."

Hana spews out her cocktail, covering her mouth with rosy cheeks.

"Mon dieu! Did–did he just say–"

"Like you don't know what that is, Kiara," Olivia snorts. "Drink up, poufiasse."

Savannah, Madeleine, and Riley cover their giggles, leaning into one another as they take their drinks.

"Wait," Hana holds up her hands as they prepare to toast their third round of shots. "Where's Penelope?"

"Oh, I'm here! I'm here!" She runs up, out of breath, her short hair and denim dress completely drenched.

"What on earth happened to you?" Riley starts grabbing napkins.

"I was checking in with my dog sitter, but the reception here is awful. Plus, it's raining like cats and dogs out—oooooo!" Penelope's eyes beam at the sight of the shots. "What are these?" She leans down to sniff before humming in approval.

"Blow jobs," Olivia smirks.

"Oh!" Penelope nods with curious fascination. "Leo said that about my lips one time–"

"He said what?" Madeleine raises an eyebrow.

"I know, I didn't understand what he meant either."

"No, that's not–nevermind."

"Hold up." Riley raises her hands to silence everyone before turning to Penelope. "Raining like cats and dogs?" She grimaces, glancing at Savannah. "I hope the guys are alright–"

"Gunther!"

The sudden boisterous voice of Drake Walker echoes through the dive bar, the doors swinging loudly, clapping up against the wooden walls. The large bartender turns, then brightens when he sees his old-time customer and friend coming into his establishment.

"Whiskers, is that you?"

The girls quietly glare at one another, mouthing the word 'whiskers.'

The two men grab each other's hands in a shake before pulling into a brotherly hug. Liam, Bertrand and Maxwell file in through the door, shaking droplets from their wet clothes.

"You guys!" Riley jumps up to greet her husband.

Savannah follows behind, wrapping her arms around Bertrand before brushing a kiss against his lips. "What are y'all doing here?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Maxwell chuckles, throwing his thumb behind his shoulder.

"The campgrounds were rained out," Liam explains, combing his wife's hair behind her ear. "We thought we could stick it out as long as the creek didn't rise too high. But then," he shakes his head, chuckling, "the tents flooded. The truck almost got stuck in the mud."

"Our clothes and shoes are airing out back at the house," Bertrand states, watching his bride fix his wet hair.

"Wow," Olivia snickers, "so much for roughing it for your bachelor party, huh, Beaumont?"

"I beg your pardon," Bertrand stiffens in annoyance, "we almost died out there, duchess."

"It's water."

"Centimeters upon centimeters–"

"Imagine meters of it. Frozen–"

"Well," Riley interjects the budding feud, "I, for one, am happy you guys are out of the nasty weather." She holds her hand up to the bartender, "first round on the crown!"

"I like the sound of that," Maxwell chuckles.

"'First round on the crown'?" Liam whispers in his wife's ear, humored.

Riley scrunches up her nose, a mischievous grin crawling across her lips. "What can I say?" She giggles, slinking an arm around her husband’s waist. "I've been a queen for over a month, and I haven’t declared anything yet." She turns to her friends. "Let them drink booze!" She glances back at Liam, who's shaking his head at his tipsy wife. "What? I was channeling my inner Marie Antoinette."

"I… caught the reference," he narrows his eyes, gently placing a grip around Riley's neck. "I hope she’s not the inspiration of your own reign," he squeezes his fingers playfully, lowering his voice into a growl. "I'd hate for you to end up like her."

"You're not convincing me otherwise with your hand around my throat, my king." They knowingly snicker to one another, sharing a kiss.

"Okay, you newlyweds," Olivia snickers, rolling her eyes before turning to Drake. "So, um, Whiskers?"

He crosses his arms. "Yes…Red?" He collects a tray of glasses and a fifth of whiskey from Gunther to bring to the table.

"Curious minds want to know about this nickname."

"Awww, you’re thinking about me, Red?" She scoffs as he purposely bumps into her shoulder. "Maybe you'd rather a demonstration of why they call me Whiskers–"

"Drake Elmer!" Savannah scolds. "You're disgusting." She glances to the ladies. "Only Gunther calls him that, and the only reason he calls him that is because of Dad."

"Dad had a rule," Drake air quotes, "that I couldn't taste whiskey until I had whiskers." He nods towards the bartender, "Gunther there served me my first whiskey right after Dad's funeral–"

"Drakey!" The syrupy voice of Savannah's ex-boyfriend bellows from across the room. "And he brought his royal round up!" The broad-shouldered red-head gives a curt bow, removing his Stetson as he notices Liam, switching to a British accent. "Your majesty."

Liam nods cordially before casually turning towards Riley. "What is it with you Americans thinking everyone in Europe talks with that accent?" Riley giggles under her breath, pinching her husband teasingly.

"Bert!" Chuck opens up his arms, pulling the duke into a tight, bear hug. "How's our groom? Come down here to flex your trivia knowledge?"

"Trivia?" Maxwell questions.

A sudden jolt of excitement hits Drake, his eyes widening as he looks to Gunther. "Is that tonight?"

"You bet yer' asses, Whiskers. $250 cash prize and a bottle of Jack to share."

"Whatd'ya say, Drakey? For old time's sake?" Chuck holds out his hand. Without giving it much thought, Drake clasps Chuck's calloused hand, pulling him into a quick hug. The men begin to hoot and grunt, clapping as they turn to join the rest of Chuck's friends in the corner.

But then Chuck stops, spinning on his heel. He glares at Bertrand before fixing a charming smirk to his mouth. "Where are my manners? Bert, the team is full, or else I'd invite you to join–"

"That's–" Bertrand clears his throat, "--quite alright, I assure you–"

"I mean," Chuck motions to Liam and Maxwell, "unless y'all wanted to make your own team." He glances over his shoulder, “Gunther, what’s tonight’s theme?

"Texas history, fellas," Gunther announces. "Trivia about the greatest fucking country in the world. Texas."

"Ahh. See?" Chuck swings out his arms, shrugging. "That’s how the story goes. Y'all better sit this one out." With the deep clack of his cowboy boots, he adjusts his belt buckle before slowly strutting back to his seat.

Seeing the defeat in his face, Savannah runs a hand across Bertrand's chest before giving him a sweet kiss on the cheek. "Don't worry about it, hun," she softly croons, "that's not even your idea of fun anyway."

Bertrand grows rigid. "What do you mean? I like to have fun–"

"Of course, B, just… in other… ways–"

"I," he pulls away from his fiancée, pressing his finger into his chest, "am… the epitome of fun–"

"You're right, but–"

"I'm a crate full of apes!"

Riley looks over her shoulder to Liam, whispering, "Does he know that it's a barrel full of–?"

"Shhh," Liam softly hushes, "just let him go."

"You there!" Bertrand shouts to Gunther, causing everyone to freeze. "We would like to play."

"Uh, Bertrand? A word." Maxwell motions for his brother to join him as he stumbles over to Liam. "Are you crazy?" He whisper shouts. "These people already enjoy making fun of us. Why do you want to do this?"

"It's the principle of it all," Bertrand grows serious.

Maxwell sighs. "What do you think, Li?"

Liam looks up at Bertrand whose gaze is now attentive to Savannah. She laughs at something Kiara says, causing Bertrand's demeanor to slump a little more, as if each second with her reminds him he's not worthy of her.

Liam gets that.

"I think we should do it."

"See, Bertrand? Even Li–wait, what?" Maxwell's jaw drops. "You think this is a good idea?"

"It's just a game, right?" Liam winks handsomely. "Besides, I think Bertrand needs this."

"But Li… Texas trivia? Those guys reek of BBQ, football and leather."

“And we have survived how many secret coups attacks? Liam shrugs before patting the younger Beaumont on the back. "This could be fun."

—

Liam, Bertrand and Maxwell settle at a bar top table near four other teams, including Chuck and Drake's group. As Gunther passes out electronic buzzers, he explains the rules. Chuck rubs his hands together in cocky delight as Bertrand wipes his brow with small drink napkins.

"Alright! Is everybody ready?" Gunther announces over a karaoke machine microphone. "Let's begin. When is Texas Independence Day?"

Chuck buzzes in with a proud, sarcastic snicker. "March 2nd."

"Correct!"

"Ahh, snaps, you guys," Maxwell hangs his head in his hands. "This was a bad idea."

"It's only been one question," Liam encourages.

"And we're already losing!" Maxwell whines, covering his eyes.

"Next question. Before her independence, Texas was governed by how many different nations?"

Liam hits the buzzer, turning to an unsuspecting Bertrand. "Psst… how many forks are in the traditional Cordonian place setting?"

Bertrand scoffs. "Six!" He barks out loud before realizing everyone is silent, staring at him.

"Correct!"

"Huh?" Maxwell looks up, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Way to go, Bertrand!" Riley and Savannah cheer as the other ladies clap and whistle.

"Alright," Gunther starts, "next question…"

The trivia night continues, back and forth, question for question. The other teams at the bar had opportunities to answer, but overall, Chuck and Drake's team remained in the lead.

But not by much.

The men from Cordonia gave them quite a run for their money, thanks to Liam and his wealth of knowledge. But although Liam knows the majority of the answers, he is yet to speak for the team; rather, he turns to Bertrand each time after hitting the buzzer, prompting him with a different question that possesses the same answer.

"Okay, folks," the bartender announces, "this is the last question. If this team," Gunther points to Bertrand, Liam and Maxwell, "chimes in and gets it right, it will tie the game, sending us into sudden death." The bar fills with cheers, patrons shouting with excitement and pounding their fists on the tables. "Here we go. The Texas Revolution started in what year?"

There's a slight hesitation, but finally Liam turns to Bertrand and states, "The ending of the Bavarian Regency of Greece." Bertrand furrows his eyebrows, but Liam gives him a reassuring nod as he hits the buzzer.

He clears his throat. "1835?"

Everyone freezes, a hush falling over the bar in anxious anticipation.

"Folks? We've got ourselves a tied game!"

Bertrand exhales heavily, closing his eyes. Liam pats him on the back while Maxwell cheers, tugging on his brother's shoulder. The entire bar is in a fuss as Chuck and Drake stare confusingly at each other. Gunther gets back on the mic, and explains the sudden death round, which requires for each team to choose one member to represent them.

"You've got this, Li," Maxwell applauds, Bertrand smiling and nodding.

"I think… Bertrand should take this."

"Pardon my insolence, sir, but I do not find that to be a wise decision," Bertrand argues.

"I agree with my brother, Li," Maxwell nods, "you knew all those answers–"

"But Bertrand scored us those points," Liam counters, "he needs to put up a fight until the game is over. It's the principle, remember?"

Hearing Liam repeat his words, Bertrand grins, courage blooming in his chest. He looks to Savannah who is clapping, mouthing the words 'I'm so proud of you.'

"I'll do it."

Bertrand and Chuck step forward for the sudden death round, peering into each other's eyes. "Are we ready, gentlemen?" Gunther asks. Both men shake their heads yes, their gazes not leaving each other. "Let the best man win."

For a split second, Bertrand glances at his fiancée, and realizes he might not be the best man, but to her, he is. And no matter what, he's already won.

"Here's the question: made popular by an Alamo hero, this portable weapon that can kill and butcher game. Name the weapon–"

Chuck buzzes in. "The Swiss army knife." He smiles brightly, pulling out his own pocket blade and twirling it in victory.

Bertrand turns back to Liam and Maxwell, shaking his head. Maxwell mouths, 'that's okay! You did your best!' Bertand shakes his head more adamantly, but now he’s starting to grin.

"Actually," the bartender starts, "that’s incorrect, Chuck." Gunther turns towards Bertrand. "Do you have an answer, my foreign friend?"

Bertrand smirks. "You are referring to the Bowie knife."

A stillness hushes the crowd; Savannah and Riley anxiously wait, hands clasped with bated breath.

"That… is correct!"

The entire room erupts with shouts of praise and earth-shaking applause. Several men remove their ten-gallon hats to whoop in honor of the winner, the women of the bachelorette party squealing in glee.

Drake shakes Bertrand's hand before pulling him into an endearing hug. Liam and Maxwell both clap the duke on the back in congratulations. Savannah quickly cuts in, throwing her arms around her fiancé as her lips crash into his. Gunther comes over with the prize, and shakes Liam's hand. Maxwell snatches the bottle of Jack and the cash, and holds it over his head like a trophy. More shots and drinks are ordered, the night carrying on into a wild honky-tonk of a dance party.

Riley finds Liam, roping her arms around his neck as he secures his large hands to her waist.

"I'm so proud of you, partner," Riley attempts a drawl. Liam laughs, kissing her forehead as they begin to sway to the slow country beat. "Bertrand said that you actually never gave him any answers; you just… asked him questions that had the same answer"

Liam nods slowly, "Yep."

"Why?"

"Oh, my queen," he beams looking down at her, "it's the principle."

"The principle?" She cocks an eyebrow.

"A man wants to win a woman's heart."

"But Savannah loves him–"

"That's not the point," Liam counters. "A man wants to win her over… and over and over again. If I gave him the answers, that would've cheated him out of proving to her and to himself that he's worthy of her."

"Do you ever feel that way about me?" She croons.

A rosy hue swirls across Liam's cheeks. "More than you realize."

Riley presses a tender kiss to her husband’s chin before continuing their dance. "But… I gotta ask. When did you become so smart about Texas history?"

Liam chuckles. "I've been best friends with Drake Walker since I was 8 years old. We used to do our studies together, and… he was terrible at history."

"So?"

"So?" Liam stifles his toothy grin, licking his bottom lip. "Who do you think did his Texas history homework?"

"William Rys!"

~👑~

Thank you so much for your support! Every like, comment and reblog means the world to me! 🖤

~👑~

Tags (please let me know if you wish to be added/removed)

PERMA

@alj4890 @ao719 @charlotteg234 @issabees @kat-tia801 @kingliam2019 @mainstreetreader @mom2000aggie @neotericthemis @nikirennie87 @peonierose @socalwriterbee @tessa-liam

ALL TRR

@3pawandme @alyshak92 @iaminlovewithtrr @katedrakeohd @lovingchoices14 @malblk21 @rubiwalker @sfb123 @twinkleallnight

#the royal romance #the royal heir #king liam appreciation week #klaw day 2 #klaw day 5 #choices trr #trr liam #king liam rys #liam rys #liam x mc #liam rys x mc #liam x riley #drake walker #bertrand beaumont #maxwell beaumont #savannah beaumont

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choicesficwriterscreations · 4 months

Text

The Royal Romance Masterlist 2024

✒️= Fanfic | 📱= Text Fics/Edits | 🎨= Fanart Ⓜ️ = Mature Content 18+ | 🔥 = Explicit/NSFW 18+ 🏳️‍🌈 = LGBTQIA

April 2024

Behind Closed Doors (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️🏳️‍🌈| Maxwell Beaumont x MC, Liam Rys x Maxwell Beaumont - @angelasscribbles Chapter 1: The Invitation

A Bird in Hand ✒️| Liam Rys x MC - @angelasscribbles

Catch & Release ✒️Ⓜ️| Liam Rys x MC, Drake Walker x MC - @dcbbw

Dance Under the Rainbow 🎨🏳️‍🌈 | Hana Lee x MC - @uselessgay10101

Forevermore (Series) ✒️ | King Marquise (Liam) x F!MC - @khoicesbyk Chapter 5: Joy of Winter

TRR Complete List Week Ending 4/27/2024

March 2024

The DeFacto Queen (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️| Liam Rys x MC, Drake Walker x MC - @angelasscribbles Chapter 5: Come Together

Capitulo 3: Adios New York ✒️| Liam Rys x F!MC - @belencha77

Capitulo 4: Bienvenidos a Cordonia ✒️| Liam Rys x F!MC - @belencha77

Capitulo 5: Noche Especial✒️| Liam Rys x F!MC - @belencha77

Once Upon a Time, Book 1. Ch. 1 (Part 7) ✒️| Liam Rys, Drake Walker, etc. - @fadingreveries

Best Kept Secrets (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️🔹| Liam Rys x F!OC - @ao719 Chapter 19: Built to Last

Cinderfella's Adventures in Cordonia (Series) ✒️🏳️‍🌈| Liam Rys x M!MC - @justcallmefox89 Chapter 20

Forevermore (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️| Liam Rys (King Marquise) x F!MC - @khoicesbyk Chapter 5: Joy of Winter

Fruit of Her Loins ✒️Ⓜ️| Liam Rys - @littleredroseonthevalley

Ghosted (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️| Liam Rys x MC - @kristinamae093 Chapter 11: Altering Visions

Hirbawi ✒️Ⓜ️🔹| Drake Walker x MC - @petiteboheme

Maxwell Beaumont x MC 🎨by @bombomangooo

Midnights Like This (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️🔥🔹| Leo Rys x F!OC, Liam Rys x F!MC - @queenrileyrose Part 15: Hold Me Tight

Princesa Real (Series) ✒️| Liam Rys x MC - @belencha77 Chapter 1: El Amor no Existe Chapter 2: Erase Una Vez 🔹

The Royal Romance, Bk1 Ch1: Once Upon a Time (Pt. 1) ✒️ | Multiple Characters - @fadingreveries

The Royal Romance: Once Upon a Time (Chapter 2) ✒️| Liam Rys x MC - @fadingreveries

The Royal Romance Book 1, Chapter 1: Once Upon a Time Part 6 ✒️ | Liam Rys x MC - @fadingreveries

Savage Love (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️| Liam Rys x MC, Drake Walker x MC - @angelasscribbles Chapter 37: Gone

Second Chance Love (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️🔥 | Liam Rys x MC, Liam Rys x F!OC - @mysticalfangirl Part 1

Secrets Behind Their Eyes Ch. 1 & 2✒️Ⓜ️| Liam Rys, Drake Walker, Maxwell Beaumont - @fancy--marshmallow

Secrets Behind Their Eyes Ch. 3 ✒️| Liam Rys, Drake Walker, Maxwell Beaumont - @fancy--marshmallow

Turning the Page (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️| Liam Rys x F!OC - @tessa-liam Chapter 11: A Step Back in Time

Vancross (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️| Liam Rys x F!OC - @ao719 Chapter 23: Rescue You

You Belong to Me (Series) ✒️| Liam Rys x MC, Drake Walker x F!MC - @queenrileyrose Part One: I Wonder What's Mine

February 2024

Can't Take My Eyes Off of You - Part 5✒️| Maxwell Beaumont x Olivia Nevrakis - @alj4890

Cordonian Karaoke (Series) ✒️🔹| Drake Walker, Liam Rys, MC - @angelasscribbles Riley Take 4

Hana Take 3 ✒️🏳️‍🌈🔹| Hana Lee x MC, Drake Walker x MC - @angelasscribbles

Goodbyes Are the Hardest ✒️| Liam Rys x MC - @silvermillenniumqueenneptune

Marabelle: The Game of Kings ✒️💘🔹| Liam Rys x F!MC - @tessa-liam

My Lonely Valentine: The Agreement ✒️💘Ⓜ️ 🔥🔹| Liam Rys x MC - @angelasscribbles

Olivia Nevrakis Fanart 🎨by @artbyalz

Round Robin Chapter 1: Welcome ✒️🔹- @angelasscribbles

Side by Side (Series) ✒️| Liam Rys x MC - @ownworldresident Chapter 9: Renewal

Single Again ✒️🔹| Liam Rys x MC - @angelasscribbles

Staking a Claim ✒️Ⓜ️🔹| Drake Waker x MC - @angelasscribbles

Turning the Page (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️🔹| Liam Ry Chapter 10: Somewhere Only We Know

Vancross (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️🔹| Liam Rys x F!OC - @ao719 Chapter 22: My Way Back to You

Wild Ride: A Bad Romance Prequel One-Shot ✒️Ⓜ️🔥🔹| Liam Rys x MC - @angelasscribbles

January 2024

Week ending January 6, 2024

The Best Mistake He Never Had (Series) ✒️| Drake Walker x MC - @camillemontespan Part Four

Traditions ✒️🌟| Liam Rys x MC - @bebepac

Unexpected (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️ | Liam Rys x MC, Maxwell Beaumont x MC - @angelasscribbles Chapter 10: The Truth Comes Out Chapter 11: Let's Be Happy

What's Already Mine ✒️| Liam Rys x MC - @ao719

Week ending January 13, 2024 Complete List

Week ending January 20, 2024

Anything But Common (Series) ✒️🏳️‍🌈| Hana Lee & MC - @silvermillenniumqueenneptune Magical Misadventures in Miscellany

Liam Rys Fanart 🎨 by @bayleedraws-sometimesx

Marabelle (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️🔹| Liam Rys x MC - @tessa-liam Chapter 9: The Awakening

Midnights Like This ✒️🔹| Leo Rys x MC - @queenrileyrose Chapter 14: Falling Like Stars

Single Mom ✒️🔹| Liam Rys x MC - @dcbbw

You Can Tell Me Anything ✒️| Drake Walker x F!MC - @camillemontespan

Week ending January 27, 2024

Best Kept Secrets (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️🔹| Liam Rys x F!MC - @ao719 Chapter 18: Maybe We'll Get it Right

Daylight ✒️Ⓜ️🔹| TRR MC x ? - @angelasscribbles

Forevermore (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️🔹| King Marquise (Liam) x MC - @khoicesbyk Chapter 4a: The Princess Diary, Part 1 Chapter 4b: The Princess Diary, Part 2

#choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #cfwc art of the week #playchoices #the royal romance #the royal heir

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dcbbw · 1 year

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Taking the L

I am participating in #KingLiamAppreciationWeek (#KLAW), hosted by the ever-lovely @lizzybeth1986 and @sazanes. This is my offering for Day 1: Throwback/Character Appreciation. I will be providing at least one more story for the event; if I do it correctly, the fic will cover the additional themes/days.

So, this is basically me giving my opinion and head canons about Liam while linking throwback fics into the dialogue; while I have all the love and appreciation in the world for my first, true LI, it may be best to have some of my Rileys express what they treasure and cherish most about the Liam they are paired with. After all, they are the ones with the man day in and day out.

Thank you to all who will read this brain dump; I can only hope it makes sense and comes across in a coherent manner. Everything is below the cut.

PB birthed Liam Rys, but us content creators raise him.

Song Inspiration: Fanfiction on the Internet, Jake Timothy

Word Count: 1,207

Why Liam?

My reason is incredibly simple (and it isn’t because it’s The Royal Romance) … I have dated enough Drake Walkers and Maxwell Beaumonts in real life; no way am I doing it in an alternate universe and spending real dollars to do so.

I dealt with enough games and guards/walls and insecurities and mothering of men; I have done more than my share of putting forth efforts and ego-stroking and reminders and pushing and prodding. I have begged men to love me and proved (to no avail) that my love is worthy of acceptance.

Playing the game with Liam as my LI is my form of escape from reality … the refreshing openness, honesty, and emotional availability Liam Rys provides gives me hope, and will always be my why.

Which Liam?

My preferred Liam is Asian Liam (Asiam). When I first joined the fandom almost 5 years ago, Caucasian Liam (Whiam) was the King of choice for the majority of the fandom, and I remember being nommed for a Clown Award for fetishy writing because I wrote a tall, black MC with Asiam. (I received 7% of the vote)

Asiam is my default Liam, and not just because I see him (looks-wise) as a cross between Gong Yoo and Alex Landi; in my head canon, Asiam is patient (more than most), more sensuous than sexual, logical, an overthinker, and has a humility that is rare for someone born into and raised in an environment of the highest privilege.

He is the driving force behind Riam, Sock Game Liam in the DC AU, UnRomance, and the majority of my TRR-themed one-shots and limited series including The Platinum AU, Driam, and Laxwell.

My love for Asian Liam does not stop me from using the other versions of Liam.

I know I’m in the minority here with my thought process, but I see each version of Liam as a separate person with a distinct je ne sais quoi who just happens to share core characteristics and personality traits with the other two.

I think it would be especially true for Asiam (whom PB did not even classify as an ethnicity, and let's not get into the whitewashing of his mother, Eleanor), and Black Liam (Bliam). While all versions of Liam have a mother who is both a commoner and foreigner, two of them have a parent of color, which (again, to me) has to influence how they are perceived by the international audience they are constantly paraded in front of.

White Liam (Whiam) to me, is trusting, definitely carnal, and has a boldness ...a recklessness if you will; yet he is hesitant to fully embrace his role as King. This Liam takes the lead in stories such as The Commoner’s Wife, Streets of New York, One Night Stand, and he is the Liam of choice in the upcoming stories, Sins of the Father, Best Friend, and Body Count.

I have plans for Bliam; he is the star in a few upcoming fics: Looking, Heartland, Life in a Southern Town (the Election AU), and Eight Minutes. For me, Bliam exudes a confidence the other Liams do not, which is at odds with my head canon that this particular Liam is more guarded than Drake and more of a loner.

Currently all three Liams can be found in my Remix series (only two chapters in, but more is coming!) where Asiam is a complete thot. (He can be an anomaly at times)

Head Canons (strictly my envisionings, opinions, and thought processes that formulate my version of Cordonia’s favorite King)

· His name is Liam, not William; his mama named him Liam and that’s good enough for me. And coming from a family where me and my siblings all have names that begin with an R, I like the Leo, Liam, Lena thing; bonus that the first syllable for each is pronounced “Lee”

· He has BDE, and the BD to back it up

· He is not submissive in the bedroom. Being King is a 24/7 job, and I do not see him just shedding that type of power the second nakedness enters the picture

· I also do not see him as dominant in the bedroom; for his partner’s pleasure, he can be assertive (not to be confused with aggressive). The man is still kinky though

· However, he has no problem with a transference of power between he and his partner between the sheets (within reason)

· Liam grew up in an environment where unilateral decisions that affect the entire country are made in a millisecond; hence the Coronation night fiasco. If keeping you a secret from Cordonia means you’re safe … it’s worth the fallout

· Madeleine was his only choice that night because another suitor’s acceptance would immediately become a political arrangement, with their families/houses effectively trapping Liam in a marriage neither party wants

· It doesn’t happen often, but he and MC argue. Loudly

· He’s a social smoker, especially when networking or brokering a deal/arrangement/alliance

· If he’s pouring a scotch, he’s stressed

· MC is his first true/real relationship

· He is not perfect

· He makes mistakes

· Two of my Liams can cook; the rest are at the mercies of the kitchens and Riley

· He doesn’t flaunt his wealth

· He is deeply spiritual (believes in a higher power and prayer), but doesn’t begin attending church until he and MC have created a family

What is the one thing Riley appreciates most about (her) Liam?

Riam Riley: I’ll have to get back to you on that.

Riley B.: I would have to say his thoughtfulness. When he borrows my car, he returns it with a full tank of gas. When he comes to my place, he brings in my mail and packages. He’ll Venmo me money when it’s a couple of days before payday. He looks out for me.

Mermaids Riley: His vulnerability. It’s hard to open to someone you hated for absolutely no reason, then find out you’re going to marry them, and now you have to get to know said person and let them get to know you as well. The more we talk and spend time together, the more I learn and not just the surface stuff. That takes more than courage, and I admire it.

Platinum AU Riley/Raleigh: I haven’t seen him in 10 years, but I remember his intelligence. He was more than educated or smart; Liam had a hunger for knowledge, and constantly fed it. He was open-minded as well, so prone to listen to opposing perspectives and broadening his mindset.

Discontent Riley: What I appreciate most about Liam? His selflessness. We’ve had … we’re having our share of problems, but he is always there for me despite public opinion, and at great risk to his reign. I can only imagine the toll our losses and my drinking have taken on his health on all levels, but he only cares for mine. I don’t deserve him.

UnRomance Riley: I appreciate the way he takes care of me. It may not always be the way I would want or even like, but he knows what I need without me saying a word.

Riam Riley: Oh, dear Lord! It’s my turn again? Okay, okay … I got one. It’s his even-temperedness. He’s the calm to my storm, he listens to me go on and on and on, especially when I’m hormonal which is all the time. Liam is steady. He makes things make sense. Not saying he doesn’t get frustrated, fed up, and angry … he does. But he’s never volatile, and it never lasts long. He truly forgives and forgets.

And there you have it, dear reader … a few things I think makes my Liam(s) tick and sets him apart (if only slightly) from the others. Your mileage may vary.

Tagging: @jared2612 @ao719 @marietrinmimi @queenjilian @indiacater @kingliam2019 @bebepac @liamxs-world @mom2000aggie @liamrhysstalker2020 @neotericthemis @twinkleallnight @umccall71 @superharriet @busywoman @gabesmommie1130 @tessa-liam @beezm @gardeningourmet @lovingchoices14 @mainstreetreader @angelasscribbles @lady-calypso @emkay512 @princessleac1 @charlotteg234 @queenrileyrose @alj4890 @yourfavaquarius111 @motorcitymademadame @queenmiarys @kingliamappreciationweek @lizzybeth1986 @sazanes

#dcbbw writes #king liam appreciation week #klaw day 1 #king liam rys of cordonia

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karahalloway · 10 months

Text

Mission: Cordinia - Game of Thieves

Fandom: TRR x Mission: Impossible II

Series: Mission: Cordonia

Pairing: Drake Walker x F!OC (Harper Gale)

Synopsis: Harper's illicit plans go awry when Drake's appearance at the Beaumont Bash throws an unexpected wrench in the works

Word count: 5,000

Rating/Warnings: E (swearing, aggravation, illegal activities, a handful of lemon-scented moments)

Chapter theme song:

A/N1: This is my submission for @choicesprompts' Rewrite Challenge and the scene I chose to redo with my OTP is the one from Mission: Impossible II where Nyah steals the necklace from the hacienda in Seville. This is (still) one of my favourite movies of all time and I especially love this scene for the music, the way it's shot, the situational humour and the sexual tension... basically everything about it! 🙃

A/N2: The clips (for anyone who hasn't seen the movie, or doesn't remember) are below (I couldn't find a YouTube video that had the entire scene in one video). Enjoy!

youtube

Game of Thieves

"Evening, ma'am," greets a liveried footman as he reaches for the door handle of the Mercedes AMG SL 63 roadster that I've just revved to a stop. "And welcome to the Beaumont Bash."

"Thanks," I say with a smile, spinning in the seat to swivel my legs out of the car. "Looking forward to seeing if the experience lives up to the hype."

"Oh, I can assure you that it does, ma'am," he chuckles, handing me a token for my car. "The Bash gets wilder every year."

"Does it really?" I ask with wide eyed surprise as I open my clutch up to carefully stow the token away.

"I promise, you will not be disappointed, ma'am," he assures me with a wink.

"Bet your ass I won't, bud," I murmur under my breath as I turn towards the House. "Because I have something special planned for tonight..."

Stepping onto the red carpet lined stairway of the the stately, baroque manor, I can tell that the party is already very much in full swing: the thump of the bass echoes out in the night, the occasional shrill laugher rising above it as shadowy silhouettes drift and mingle.

Which is perfect.

Because even though I am normally very much a punctual kind of girl, there are certain situations where it pays to arrive fashionably late... or not at all.

As in my line of work, timing is everything.

And I intend to make it rain tonight...

...assuming everything goes to plan.

I have no real reason to think that it won’t. After all, I've been planning this job for over a year and I've made sure to account for every step, every detail, down to the time of my arrival, to the way I’ve styled my hair, and even the black lace mini dress I’m wearing.

Because when the potential pay-off is this big, nothing can be left to chance. And I am nothing if not a perfectionist.

Making it to the top of the steps, I am greeted by a pair of burly-looking security guards.

"Good evening, ma'am," says one holding a tablet. "Your name?"

"Lady Riley Brooks," I say with a demure smile.

A lie. But, then again, I’m not stupid enough to have booked myself onto the high-profile guest list under my real name.

The guard taps on the screen a few times before nodding.

"May I take a look at your bag, ma'am?" asks the other.

"Of course," I reply graciously, handing my black leather YSL clutch over.

The guy opens it up, pulling out my phone, a USB charger, a compact mirror, and a tube of lipstick, before slotting everything away again and returning it to my hands.

"Have a good evening, ma'am," he nods, opening his arm to indicate that I may enter.

"I very much intend to," I say with a smirk, stepping through the doorway into the House...

...and I am instantly transported into another world.

The strategically placed mood lights bathe everyone and everything in the lavishly decorated room in a heady mix of rose and violet, providing an ethereal backdrop to the acrobats that are twirling seductively through the air with the help of various hoops, aerial silks, and trapeze lines.

Heightening the trance-like effect are strobe lights that flash in perfect accompaniment to the EDM-remixed classical music, illuminating the glitter and lavender-scent infused smoke slithering around the guests' ankles.

But what truly takes my breath away is the centre piece of the extravagant show, which is a pair of scantily dressed dancers, performing a racy ballet routine on top of a snowy-white Lippizaner.

"Apparently money can buy you anything," I muse softly, surveying the combined effect of the spectacle that is more than on par with anything ever put on by the Cirque du Soleil.

And even though I would love to lose myself in the magic of it all, I’m here for business, not pleasure. Which means that I cannot afford any distractions.

So, taking a breath, I plunge into the crowd. Weaving between the ballgowns and the tuxedos, I'm careful to avoid direct eye contact with anyone as I skirt ‘round the edge of the performance area, trying to look the part while remaining as unassuming as possible.

But despite my attempts to lose myself in the press, I feel an unmistakable tingle rise up the back of my neck.

I'm being watched.

I come to a stop, debating what to do.

Part of my mind tells me that I should ignore it, that it's probably just some drunk duke checking out my ass.

But a deeper, more instinctual part of me knows the difference between a pervy once-over and an unrelenting, focused stare. And this is definitely the latter.

So, probably against my better judgment, I lift my head in silent challenge...

...and my gaze instantly collides with his, bringing the world around me to a sudden, screeching halt.

My breath lodges in my chest as I find myself helplessly immobile under the weight of his scrutiny, like a deer caught in the headlights. The music, the laughter, it all falls away until it feels like it's just me and him, suspended in time and space across the room.

Because even with the distance separating us, I can feel the heat of his gaze scorching into me, stripping me bare, until I'm left naked, exposed in front of him.

And still he doesn't look away. He doesn't blink, or flush, or avert his gaze in any semblance of pretence that his attention had actually been focused on anything else.

He simply stands, unmoving, on the other side of the dancers, his dark eyes binding me unapologetically, giving me no corner, no chance of escape.

Yet escape is exactly what I must do.

I have no clue who this guy is, and I have even less interest in finding out. As best case scenario, he is simply a dangerous distraction. But worst case? He somehow knows exactly who I am and my reason for being here.

And neither of those options are good.

So, as the dancers pirouette across the floor, throwing their arms out and breaking the line of sight that connects us, I wrench myself out of my stupor, diving into the crush behind me.

"Holy shit! Who was that guy?" I gasp under my breath, feeling my heart race at a million miles an hour in response to the strangely intimate nature of the encounter.

But despite my shock, I know in the back of my head that the details are irrelevant. That the only thing that matters is getting as far away from him as possible. Because the last thing I need right now is him following after me and derailing all the hard work I've put into getting here tonight.

Keep it together, Harper, I tell myself, bending my head low as I use the anonymity of the crowd to hide myself, hoping that I've managed to give him the slip.

Reaching the end of the throng without incident, I duck behind a doorway to give myself a second to catch my breath, and make sure that the coast is clear.

Satisfied that I've lost him — at least for the moment — I turn towards my next objective, which is the grand staircases.

It's an exposed location, so I know I'll have to be quick. Especially since there is a pair of guards stationed at the bottom of the steps, tasked with preventing exactly the kind of protocol violation that I am about to commit.

Luckily, just at that moment, a group of very much worse for wear noblewomen stumble out of the main party, shrieking loudly.

"Oh, my goodness!" exclaims one, feathering herself with her silk fan. "Did you see the size of that lad's package!"

"Calm down, Abigail!" admonishes another. "We know that husband of yours is next to useless, but you should at least try to not make such a spectacle of yourself!"

"Mmm, speaking of spectacle..." purrs the first, laying eyes on the guards.

"Abigail!" cries her companion, even as snorts of laughter rise up from the others. "You are absolutely incorrigible!"

"Better to be incorrigible than a vapid, old nun!" comes the pithy response as Abigail stumbles across the hallway.

Seizing my chance, I fall into line at the back of the group as the women crowd around the guards, laughing and swaying as they try to secure their attentions.

As expected, the focus of the guards quickly becomes diverted by the ladies, even if it's only to the extent of trying to maintain some semblance of professionalism in the face of the relentless coquetry, and I use the opportunity to dash up the stairs behind them.

Keeping to the shadows, I fly up the steps two at a time, knowing that I have scant few moments to make it to the upper floor before I am spotted.

Reaching the top of the landing, I throw myself behind a suit of armour. But, it seems that Lady Luck is with me tonight, and apart from the sound of the party continuing in full swing downstairs, I hear no signs of a pursuit.

So, I take advantage of the momentary reprieve to retrieve the pair of satin opera gloves that I've stashed in my garter. Pulling them on, I slip out from my hiding place and make my way towards the master wing, using my mental map of the manor's blueprints as a guide.

Arriving at the correct set of doors, I try the handle, and breathe a sigh of relief when it turns easily in my hand.

I've brought a set of lock-picks with me, of course, but being able to save time and effort in not having to use them is a massive win.

Letting myself into the room, I click the door softly closed behind me.

An opulent, Rocco-inspired suite greets me, complete with a four-poster bed and a full-blown hand-painted mural on the ceiling.

But I’m not here to gawk. And I have precious little time to get what I came for and get out.

So, pulling my compact mirror from my clutch, I open it up to reveal the miniature voltage detector concealed within.

Stepping further into the room, I hold the device out in front of me, the faint chirps serving as a beacon guiding me towards my destination.

The beeping suddenly intensifies as I swing the detector past the line of the bathroom, and I know I'm getting closer.

Adjusting my course, I follow the compass-like arrow in my hand. Zeroing in on the oversized bathtub, I am rewarded with a series of high-pitched cheeps.

Jackpot.

Why someone would choose to hide a safe in a bathroom, not to mention in the vicinity of a bathtub that is prone to flooding and other types of short-circuit causing disasters, I have no idea.

That said, it is innovative.

Though not innovative enough to fool a professional thief like me.

Because that's what I am — a career larcenist who specialises in small, high value items. Jewellery, art, antiques... I’m not picky. As long as it has a five-to-six figure price tag and I can hide it in my cleavage, I am willing to put in the effort to lift it.

And that's why I’m here tonight — to get my hands on the 24 carat Bvlgari diamond necklace that has graced the neck of every Duchess of Ramsford since the turn of the last century. Not only is it worth millions, but it's also a stunning work of art. And it deserved to be worn, rather than gathering dust in an expensive safe somewhere.

Scooting into the marble tub, I place my clutch onto the mosaic tiled surround as I scan the expanse of the walls with the voltage detector.

The indicator suddenly jumps to the right and down, and I can't help but feel the familiar rush of butterflies in my stomach.

This is it.

Dropping the detector back in my clutch, I extract my phone and the tube of lipstick. Twisting the bottom off the tube, I pull out the miniature lock-pick hiding within and, with the help of the flashlight on my phone, I begin to move over the tiles, looking for anything out of the ordinary.

Suddenly I spot it — a tiny inconsistency in the mortar between the edge of two tiles. Reaching down with the pick, I dig at the protrusion until it pops free, revealing some kind of card slot.

Turning the flashlight off on my phone, I flip it over and snap the protective cover off, exposing a flimsy bit of plastic nestled within. Connecting the keycard decoder to my phone via the micro-USB port, I slot it into the nearly invisible slit between the tiles.

Booting up the hidden app on my phone, I quickly run the hack program and am rewarded with a beep and a click as the high-tech safety net falls away...

...only to have my sense of achievement instantly dashed.

Because instead of a discreet jewellery box nestled in the belly of the safe, I am greeted with yet another layer of security.

A slice of mosaic tile slides back on the bathtub surround to reveal a complicated-looking, multi-lock compartment within.

And this one has no electronic overrides.

"Crap..."

"I see you've found it."

"Jesus Christ!" I gasp, nearly jumping out of my skin at the sound of the unfamiliar and unexpected voice.

Whipping around, I come face to face with the guy from downstairs, perched on the side of the tub with a conspiratorial smirk on his face.

Like this is all some kind of massive joke.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I demand, angry at him for sneaking up on me, but even angrier at myself for letting him get this close in the first place without my warning bells going off.

Because thieves without self-preservation instincts don't survive long... and mine have just let me down big time.

Which is even more annoying given the fact that he is staring at me with that calculating, predatory gaze again, his entire body exuding a tightly-coiled, barely suppressed energy, like a panther waiting to pounce.

And even though he is dressed in a custom-tailored suit that moulds effortlessly to his muscled form like a second skin, and the watch that peeks out from beneath his cuff is worth almost as much as my car, he isn’t fooling me. Not one bit.

Because as much as he’s tried to hide it, he is an interloper here. Just like me.

His rich baritone is missing that characteristic upwards inflection that the nobility like to force upon their speech in an effort to differentiate themselves from the rest of us. And no duke, count, or baron would be caught dead with the type of five-o'clock shadow this guy is sporting, much less condone the uninhibited way with which his thick, chocolate-coloured hair has been left to fall around his face.

But that doesn’t mean that I’m going to lower my guard. Just the opposite.

Because regardless of who he is, or what he looks like (...which is hotter than hell), the guy reeks of trouble.

And his next words only help reaffirm my initial assessment.

"Think you're the only one who can pick a lock?" he asks, brow quirking upwards in sardonic challenge.

"Pfft!" I snort. "Seeing is believing, bud, and as far as I can see, I'm the only one wh—"

The sound of the bedroom door clicking open interrupts whatever retort I was going to throw at him.

Our eyes meet — mine in panic, his in measured curiosity — and in the next instant, I've grabbed the lapel of his expensive jacket, and yanked him towards me.

We hit the bottom of the tub just as the owner of the manor bursts irately into the room.

"I swear to God, Maxwell," seethes the Duke of Ramsford, the stomp of his pissed-off footsteps echoing off the wood planked floor as he enters the suite, "if one more ruddy bird defecates on my shoe, I'm culling the entire bloody lot!"

"He just got scared!" comes his companion's plaintive response. "You did boot him up the behind in a very undignified fashion..."

"Because he shat on my Oxfords!" cries the Duke, clearly incensed, as he rummages around the closet, no doubt for a replacement pair of loafers.

"Maybe if you tried being nicer to Lord Featherington—"

An unintended snort escapes me. Were these two for real right now?

"You try'na give away our position?" asks the guy from above me, his voice barely a whisper as his face hovers mere inches from mine.

"No," I hiss back, trying to sound irritated even as I struggle to contain another bout of amusement at the sheer hilarity of the situation — listening to two grown men argue about peafowl while trying to hide a third between my legs. "But it sounds like you are."

"I happen to like this position," he murmurs softly, his words sending an unexpected shiver down my spine.

"Well, don't get used to it, bud," I reply dryly, trying to ignore the feel of his overwhelming and inescapable proximity, while listening out for the Beaumont brothers. "This is a temporary situation, nothing more."

His whiskey-laced breath washes over my lips. "All the more reason to enjoy it..."

"In that case," I purr, meeting the full force of his rich, mocha-coloured eyes head on, "you wouldn't mind if I'm on top, would you?"

"Not one bit," he grins.

"Good," I smirk back as I begin to shift my weight beneath him. "Because I wouldn't have given you a choice, anyway."

He stifles a scoff as he rolls to the side.

"Something funny?" I ask with a raised brow, scooting out from under him.

"Nope," he replies, snaking a hand around my waist to pull me on top of him. "I'm just here for the ride."

"Then you better get comfortable," I tell him, as the Beaumonts make their way back across the room.

Hearing the door open and click shut again in their wake, I push myself back up, noting with more than a hint of annoyance that I now smell like the warm spice of his aftershave.

But that inconvenience can’t be helped, nor can I let it distract me from the reason I am here. I'll simply have to wait to wash it off in the shower once I am clear of this place.

So, reaching into my up-do, I extract the tension wrench hiding in my hair, and collect my lock-pick from where I dropped it on the bathtub surround earlier before refocusing my attention on the safe.

Upon closer examination, it seems to have three separate compartments, each secured by its own, dedicated lock. And I have no idea which section contained the necklace... or whether there are any hidden alarms embedded in the locking mechanisms if I pick the wrong one.

But, even with the odds — and time — stacked against me, I know I have to make a choice, because I didn't come all this way to chicken out at the final hurdle.

Taking a breath, I lean towards the middle compartment, figuring that out of the three possibilities that woul—

"You're not gonna find it there."

I nearly drop my tools all over the marble tiles.

Gritting my teeth, I glance down between my legs to find Mr Impeccable Timing smirking up at me, his hands folded easily behind his head, like he’s lazing on a tropical beach without a single care in the world, instead of at the bottom of a porcelain tub, with a stranger straddling him.

"Find what?" I bite out testily.

Who knows...? Maybe this is his idea of a good time. But it sure as hell isn’t mine.

"The former Lady Beaumont's one-of-kind Bvlgari necklace that goes up for auction next Tuesday," he replies.

My eyes narrow suspiciously. "And are you going to tell me where it is?"

He holds my gaze silently for a long moment before nodding his head, "Far left."

"Hmph," I huff, not convinced that I can trust him any further than I can throw him; which, given his size — he’s 6ft tall at least — is not very far at all.

But, unfortunately for me, I don't have time to try and psychoanalyse the possibility of whether or not he is trying to play me. The night is wearing on, the Beaumonts could return at any time, and I need to get as far out of the country as humanly possible before anyone notices the theft.

So, I am going to have to take a leap of faith.

Leaning forward again, I slide my tools into the lock of the indicated compartment and start feeling around for the binding pins.

I manage to locate the first and second relatively quickly. But, finding and setting the third proves to be slightly more elusive and I feel myself growing more agitated with each passing second.

"Damn it, why won't you move?!" I seethe under my breath as I battle with the pin.

"Hey, you put me here, remember?" comes the wry response from beneath me. "I just do as I—"

"Oh, screw you..." I huff exasperatedly, lifting my leg to give him a perfunctory knee to the gut.

"Christ, girl!" he wheezes painedly, sitting up behind me. "If you want to play rough then—"

"Gotcha!" I exclaim triumphantly, finally managing to slot the irksome pin into place and making quick work of the fourth.

The door of the compartment pings off its bolts and I drop my tools to open it up eagerly. To my relief, I'm rewarded with a velvet-lined jewellery box, which I pull quickly out.

Laying the container down on the tiles in front of me, I reach for the lid, my heart in my mouth as I lift it up...

...and I can't help but gasp at the sight in front of me.

The diamond necklace is even more stunning in real life than I could've imagined. Several hundred painstakingly curated gems gleam up at me from a nest of black silk, perfectly offsetting the elegance of the winged design to make it seem like the whole necklace is floating.

But, given that I am working on borrowed time thanks to all the unforeseen setbacks that I've run into tonight, I know that I am not going to be able to give the beautiful item the attention it deserves. At least not until I am back home.

So, reaching down, I grab the coolness of the white gold. Quickly unscrewing the heavy clasp, I unfurl the strand of precious metal and slide it down into my bra, giving my breasts a slight readjustment to help conceal my illicit cargo.

Snapping the lid of the box back closed, I turn to face my uncalled-for spectator.

"Right," I say, slotting the box back into its place. "Now that that's done, you're going to tell me exactly who you are and—"

"I wouldn't do that."

"Do what?" I bristle indignantly as I slam the safe's door closed with one hand.

An ear-splitting alarm shrieks to life.

"That," he clarifies blandly.

"Shit!" I gasp, grabbing for my stuff and haphazardly throwing them into the clutch as I scan the bathroom for possible exit points.

But my off-the-cuff plan of jumping out of the second storey window is quickly dashed as the door of the master suite bursts open to disgorge the two security guards from downstairs into the room with guns drawn.

Dread settles in the pit of my stomach like a lead weight as the guards start shouting. "Shit..."

"T'enquites pas!" comes the sudden voice of guy from behind me.

Glancing up in surprise, I see that he's pushed himself up to his full height and is gesturing at the guards to lower their weapons.

"Mr Dallas!" cries the Duke of Ramsford, bursting into the room as well. "What in blazes is going on here?" Turning to the guards, he adds, "You twits! That is Mr Dallas — our external security consultant! Apologise at once!"

"No need for that, Lord Beaumont," smiles Dallas, flapping my keycard decoder discreetly behind his back as the alarm is finally turned off. "They're just doing their jobs."

I snatch it out of his hand and stow it in my bag, throwing the satin gloves after it.

"Now, Miss Gale, my associate—"

My eyes widen at the sound of my real name as I flip my clutch closed. How did he—?

"—has your necklace in a very safe place," continues Dallas conversationally, stepping out of the bath. "But obviously, we both feel that the alarm should've gone off a bit sooner. Isn't that right, Miss Gale?"

I quickly paste a demure smile onto my face as I turn around. "Yes. Agreed. Much sooner."

Dallas — if that is even his real name — holds his hand out to help me navigate my exit from the tub in my heels while continuing his disquisition. "Now, given the circumstances, our recommendation would be to reset the sensors to respond to a lighter load. How d'you feel about sixty kilos, Miss Gale?

I shake myself out of my stupor to do some quick mental conversion, before beaming, "Perfect!"

Name? That’s one thing. My exact weight? That’s a whole 'nother league... Because no way had that been a simple guess.

But right now is not the time to ponder whether he's managed to get his hands on my Social Security number as well. Because we’re still very much in deep water.

"Shall we?" asks Dallas graciously, his face a mask of innocence as he holds his hand out in front of me.

"Let's!" I nod eagerly, stepping towards the door, my head still spinning from the sudden whirlwind of events...

...but I feel myself get pulled backwards.

"Erm, Miss Gale..." murmurs Dallas, his dark brows quirking upwards questioningly. "Aren't you... forgetting something?"

I frown in confusion. "Umm... don't think so..."

He fixes me with a level look.

My frown deepens. He’s not serious... Is he?

He stares me down uncompromisingly.

I let out a huff of annoyance.

"My lady!" cries the Duke, clearly scandalised as I reach down between my breasts. "What are you trying to do! Rob me?!"

"The thought had crossed my mind..." I reply with a tight smile, pulling the necklace out and handing it back to its owner.

"Yes, well, thank you for your..." The nobleman gulps visibly as he takes the strand of warmed metal from my hand. "...sincere efforts, Miss—"

But I've already stomped out of the room.

Flying down the grand staircase, I push my way through the — now very much more rowdy — crowd and out of the front doors of the manor, intent on putting as much distance between me and Dallas as I can so I didn't end up murdering him in full view of all of Cordonian high-society.

Un-fucking-bel—

"Harper!"

"You've got to be kidding me..." I grit as I continue my aggravated jog down the carpeted steps, pulling the token out for my car as I went.

"Harper! Wait up!" Dallas hollers again, managing to catch me by the arm just as I hit the last step.

"Fuck off," I snap, wrenching my arm out of his grasp.

He snaps a hold on my wrist to whirl me back around. "Look, just hear me out, will ya?"

"Why should I?" I hiss into his face. "Had it not been for your last minute growth of a conscience, I could've walked out of there with that necklace and that duke would've been none the wiser!"

"At least you walked..."

"Ha! Funny!" I hit back sarcastically, giving him an unmitigated shove to extricating myself from his grasp again. "Only I'm not laughing because your fucking chivalry just cost me a year's worth of work!"

"I needed to see how good you were," he replies evenly.

"Oh, really?" I scoff over my shoulder as I veritably throw the token at the nearby valet manager. “And why is that?"

"I find myself in need of someone of your unique skill-set."

I stare at him incredulously for a moment before bursting out laughing. "Yeah. In your dreams, bud! I work alone. And even if I didn't, I would never team up with someone I didn't know, much less—"

"You wanna know me?" he interjects, suddenly up in my space again. "Fine. My name's Drake. Drake Walker and—"

"Let me guess..." I gripe, folding my arms as my Mercedes pulls up. "You're not really the Beaumonts' external security consultant."

"Nope," he confirms, reaching out to grab the driver's side door as the valet gets out. "But, then you're not really Lady Riley Brooks, so I guess we're even on that front..."

I roll my eyes at him.

"...and if we're being honest, I should probably come clean about one more thing."

My eyes widen as he holds up a small fob.

"I triggered the alarm," he admits, pressing the button and causing the manor behind us light up with the wail of the claxton again.

I stare up at him, utterly speechless.

He shrugs down at me apathetically. "Sorry."

I manage to recollect myself enough to throw an ice cold glare at him as I get into the car. "For future reference, I don't do early mornings, date, or put up with two-faced bastards who get a kick out of screwing me over. So, you can take your job offer and shove it, Walker."

Grabbing the door, I slam it closed — getting more than a bit of perverse satisfaction out of the fact that the suddenness of the movement manages to pull him off balance — before kicking the throttle down and leaving him in a cloud of exhaust in my rear view.

Fucking asshole.

Bonus: Artwork

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Picture credits:

Drake - Necklace - Bathtub - Harper

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